“Line up on me!” Kyrios brawler takes those of us that chose Geo outside the walls of the harvester facility built on top of the father dungeon.

We shout loudly when we are supposed to, affirming our willingness to obey. We are eager! We are good soldiers.

We stop on a worn dirt path that circles the entire facility.We already know this drill, and form a line shoulder to shoulder, behind the master Brawler.

He takes off at a familiar, brisk pace. We follow immediately and keep our formation perfectly. “Do not attempt to absorb Geia from the ground.” Brawler says loudly from the front.

We acknowledge his orders louder.

I do not attempt to absorb the Geia I can now feel all around me. I am now connected, in a very intimate way, with Geo itself. The energy of the very planet flows through my body. It’s hard not to think of geo as “earth” because its properties are very similar. It’s dirty, rocky, and muddy like earth was, but dirt is far darker here. Black isn’t a good enough adjective to describe the complete light devouring darkness of the different forms of Geo, all besides besides gemstones, crystals, and some metals.

This feels good, I feel powerful. It is difficult to not reach out to the dirt and rocks as I pass over them. Instead I reach inside, increasing the production of my new, synergized energy source. The Geia is incredible. It rages through my body, thicker and denser than I have ever experienced. I will be running for a very long time.

To our right is a vibrant mass of every red and orange hue imaginable. Squat trees with dark red foliage trimmed with bright orange and even deeper red so dark , they border on black, trunks. Strong gusts of wind create the illusion of a blazing, smokeless inferno. The sight always freaks me out a little bit. It is so alien to the trees I visit in my mind so very often.

The pleasant memories are still more comforting than this world I have been born into. That other world, wherever it is, is still my home even after all this time, and this new life I chose.

Our left is a hundred yards of cleared land dominated by a massive obsidian wall that surrounds my current home. The wall is covered with a lattice of materials inlaid that absorb Lux perfectly, and distribute the collected energy to everything within. Even the assortment of buildings in the walls are built using the same Geia collecting materials.

It’s amazing this world never had an energy crisis like earth. It was the opposite in fact. Energy is freely available in almost infinite quantities, and Vangian bodies have a way to collect and harness this energy naturally.

I have zero idea how the people of this world use the different energy types to power things like my C- unit. I just know that it recharges itself by actively absorbing ambient Geia if available, mine if not.

That’s all a servant needs to know.

This worlds Industrial Revolution revolved around the collection of the Nearly limitless production of a variety of different Geia types. Free energy that was made incredibly easy to manage based on the properties of one Geia type. The planet itself produces all Geia types naturally except for lux, and geo. Geia Geia is actually produced when dirt, soils, and rocks absorb another any other type except for pneuma . Over time, the duration depends on the type of Geia, the trapped energy is transformed into Geo Geia. That’s what is fully saturating my entire body right now.

Let’s see how far it can take me.

A timer begins, counting up from zero now.

Kyrios Brawler takes off at a familiar, brisk pace. I follow immediately with the class and we keep our formation perfectly. He doesn’t have to give a verbal order, we know what’s expected of us. We run until we can’t.

Normally, I could run at near sprint like this for what passes as hours here. The constant Geia condensation and improved flow already made me superhuman. Now, I am a T1 synergist. The bottom rung of the elite.

My legs turn to jelly after 9 hours of running, well past my best time of close to 3 hours. the elation of such a dramatic increase doesn’t last very long. My running gets sloppy quickly now. I force legs that I cannot feel to continue to propel me forward until I finally stumble wildly. I manage to catch myself with my hands and with a roar I push myself back up and bring my legs under me to continue running.

The Geia coursing through my body feels weaker, struggling to keep my body going. The flow fluctuates, ignoring my commands, puttering like a dying engine.The effects of prolonged Geia flooding will take effect soon. The thought is as weak as my body.

Still I command my body to continue, and it feels as if I am somewhere above my body, watching it stumble along as fast as it can. I will not stop.

I don’t remember falling at all.

The smell of dirt is the first thing I notice when I come back to consciousness. It’s a familiar smell by now, friendly, and inviting. The cold, often damp or soaked soil has woken me from a forced nap every day for the 8 years of my life here. I am comfortable, and I take the time to appreciate moments like these.

Finding comfort while experiencing various extreme forms of suffering is something I excel at. It is an art. I am a mental artist paid in sanity. My profit margins are slim.

The C- unit implant beeps rudely in my skull and another countdown starts at ten minutes signaling a rest period before we would be expected to begin our run again. Just like every other day.

I wonder if, after nearly a decade of this morning routine I’ll ever be comfortable not running myself until complete bodily shutdown.

Even our rest periods are a form of training, and I force my body, with deliberate slowness, to a seated position. My body is tired for two reasons, the physical, outer layers of my body are the most notable. Muscles, tendons, bones and organs. Less obvious is the strain that Geia puts on the inside of the body, specifically the three angos’ and the entire Geia network.

When I force my body to produce Geia faster than normal for the morning run, I force it to make a LOT. I have trained my body to create a torrent of energy, which strengthens my body just by being present in massive quantities. I can not do this for very long, and the torrent became drips a third of the way into my run.

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Much of this energy is used to bolster my body and keep it going. The body of a Vangian can only take so much of this before shutting down. All the excess, unused Geia is now trapped inside my body, straining the cores and streams through which Geia flows through every part of my body. I must either dump the excess Geia or force it into a smaller, denser form to make more room.

Condensing the Geia within is a tedious, purely mental process that is necessary part of training our bodies. It is also wildly effective. The more energy packed into every bit of Geia increases its effectiveness and the bodies resistance to the adverse effects.

Everyone on this planet has the ability to do this, but the process is extremely dangerous. Damage to the Giea network and the three cores can be irreversible in major cases, and the most extreme cases of failed condensation can stop the heart, or even cause brain death.

I have seen someone catastrophically fail, and it was horrifying. I can still remember his face, and the way he flopped around on the ground bleeding from his eyes.

I’ve never visited that memory. Instead, fragments of the memory visit me sometimes when I condense, as vivid and bright as the day it happened. Flashes of the horrific suffering of a fellow servant. No one does anything.

This condensation technique is different from what I did when absorbing the core. It is used after extreme and prolonged Geia flooding. I slow the flow of Geia in my body down from its rapid rush, to a gentle run. Muscles relax, and my breathing slows. Even my thoughts slow, and thicken.

This process is easy for me now, and has become an ingrained skill performed without conscious effort after major strenuous activities.

My entire network of Geia streams connecting the reservoirs, my three anngos’ all forcefully constrict as one, slowing the flow to a crawl.

Darkness envelops my vision from the outside in, as if I am about to pass out. Sounds too, recede and dull into nothing. I hold onto consciousness through the force of my practiced willpower.

Slowly, I release my hold on my network. The act is more reflex than an actual conscious action. My vision returns. A pinprick of light expands from the center and the forest is there again, all round me, blazing.

The timer flashes. I might have rushed that one a bit. I increase flow again, to a normal level.

I hop lively to my feet and stretch my sore body, shaking each limb vigorously. I almost feel like I could do that again, despite the aches.

My C-unit displays the locations of the class, and I jog towards the green dot labeled Kyrios Brawer, easily visible against the dark orange and reds of the forest. Ki, and pearl arrive just as I am. Quint is already seated on the ground in front of the Master back perfectly straight, hands resting on crossed legs. We join Quint. in front of the Kyrios, mimicking his posture. Wyn joins us moments later.

“Now that you have felt the power of synergy, your final stage of training begins. Up to this point you have used your natural Geia to strengthen your body, and speed up various internal processes both physically, and mentally. You are all extremely skilled fighters worthy of recognition, but you wouldn’t stand a chance against any competent synergist.”

The massive brawler takes a step forward, and the earth shakes to emphasize his statement.

“From this moment forward, you are among the elite. You are greater in every physical, mental, and internal way than 80% of the population.” His eyes search each of our faces as he says this. I keep mine perfectly emotionless, eyes forward focused on nothing. I have heard many similar speeches by now. The role of a servant is integral to the success of society. “You have touched the essence of ascendancy, and your role as servants will usher in the age of gods who will shape the universe so that all may prosper. Harvesting cores from dungeons is what powers our expansion, and integral to the advancement or our society on our path to true divinity.

“Follow me soldiers.”

Excitement builds in me. Surely this is it. He isn’t making us run until we can again, like we usually do. This is what I need. Something different. The next step in my path to freedom, or death. Better or worse, I would be able to experience something besides the miserable schedule of torture I have experienced for this entire life.

I step into line and March with my fellow soldiers in our familiar, relaxed step, in time with the master brawler. Quint marches in front of me, the other three cadets behind me. We march to the wall towards a large reinforced door set into the side. A beep sounds as the master approaches and we file into a dimly lit passage. The floor of the hallway is normal concrete while walls are the same inky perfect black as the exterior. Many lights illuminate the passage from the ceiling but the walls seem to suck the majority of light, creating an eerie atmosphere that is both bright and void dark at the same time.

The walls change to a more normal concrete mixture abruptly, and I smother the urge to look behind me to see what that hallways looks like from this angle.

Two turns later we arrive at our destination. The room is bright white, filled with shining silver medical equipment surrounding multiple chairs.

I know this room. I have been here before when my C-unit was implanted through my skull into my brain.

A single faceless person ushers each of us into a chair while Kyrios stays outside the room.

The masked doctors speak softly, firmly, and with as few syllables as possible.

“Sit.” Mine says, a female.

I sit.

“Be still.”

I am already a statue, eyes forward, my eyes focused on everything in front of me at once, the way I was trained.

She straps my head to the back of the chair.

“You can relax, this will be painless and quick.” She whispers in my ear so quietly it doesn’t seem real. This tiny act of compassion feels immense. Kindness has been so scarce I have only experienced it a few times here.

She knows she shouldn’t show us kindness like that. We do not require it, and as servants it can hinder our ability to serve.

Do not pet the service animal.

Her barely audible whisper, even to my acute sense, shouts that she knows this, and does it anyways.

My appreciation for this doctor soars, even though she is wholly incorrect. I may not relax. Never in the presence of a civilian, no good servant can.

I am a good servant.

She fiddles with her instruments, out of my vision. I feel pressure on the side of my head. The high pitched whine of some tool bites into my hearing, the sound itself actually a little painful.

The procedure was quick though, the doctor wasn’t wrong about that. My hud blinks once, and the familiar clock and timer changes to a regular clock, now with a little triangle pointing down signaling a pull down menu with more options. The menu button in the other upper corner of my vision also changes. It is in a different font, and now says settings with another downward pointing triangle.

My head straps are released and the abnormally kind female doctor lays a hand on my shoulder for just a moment. “We are done here, you are dismissed.” Her voice much harder and with a weight that was at odds with her earlier whisper. I want to know who this woman is. Just her name would be enough.

I dare not ask of course. Servants do not speak unless expected to. Quint walks in front of me and his name is simply there, like a name tag stuck to his back the letters taunt me, another pull-down tab accessible through a triangle.

This upgraded C-unit provides me with actual real time information! The timing is almost laughable. What are the odds. I hear the step of the doctor, on my left side, turning to walk away. I make the decision before the thought forms fully.

For the first time since I was a child I lose a battle against myself. The neverending war for control I have over my body and mind is a string of unending internal battles. That is daily life. I surrender and turn my head just enough to see the doctor, and her name. One glance is all I need. My memory of that glance will live with perfect clarity until I die.

I know her name.