Five suns at full power, the cold of a passing night giving way to the rage of dead gods. The girl stares into the rock outcropping above her, an entire night’s rest utterly broken by the presence of a hostile creature at watch.

Kneeling a mere ten feet from their position, a warrior from the Armin Collective continues to stare into the endless horizon. With a morning’s wind the dust endemic to the southlands clears for a singular moment, augmented vision able to barely catch the form of the Southern Wall. Stretching onward for millions of miles east to west and higher than the skies above, the divine structure itself was merely a splash of black upon a blue horizon.

The Auditor takes a deep breath, warm air filling iron lungs as she senses the five suns above them begin to increase in temperature. Eyes wide as ancient scanners record the Holy Wall, the containment of humanity by the Five Gods echoing a strange emotion from within the augmented mind.

Deviation from standardization, a dangerous precedent to a perfected state of emotional awareness for a creature of augmentation and focus. A singular mantra returns to memory, the application of work in the erasement of a clouded mind.

Reaching into her backpack the Mage carefully retrieves a trio of rations. Packaged and barcoded in ancient language and prose, translation software classifies the patterns together. Three of the same; a collection of reformulated protein, tubar starch, and syrup drenched pastry interpacked together. Emergency usage now fallen to mainstream application, the breaking of a night’s fast built upon the gifts of the divine.

Stained blue eyes ignite as the Auditor scans the campsite, target found as she spots a large slab of stone fallen from eons before. Half a meter in length, the smooth red rock consisted of ancient granite forged from stellar wombs; a barely adequate surface for a traditional meal.

Behind her, the boy speaks up. “The stone is not level. It is leaning approximately three degrees to your relative right.”

The Mage turns slowly, coming face to face with the woken pair of twins. A warm voice spoken, of family from afar. “I will correct it.”

An incomparable pair, the ties of blood written upon faces of flesh yet their physical states were of different worlds. Samantha was completely destroyed from a sleepless night, unkept and feral in appearance, the stature of the girl holding the anti-material rifle was slouched forward from the weight of munitions and firearm. Comparatively, Samuel stands at full alert, wide brown eyes and a face of dead emotions; his dark clothing neatly straightened and cropped hair perfectly aligned.

Opting to ignore appearance, the Mage returns to the stone. A deep breath, eyes igniting as energy flares for a split second. Angles calculated, a precision strike against granite prepared as the creature extends out her hands.

A pair of razor thin slices of gravimetric energy are manipulated together, forms distorting the visual spectrum of reality itself. The clap of steel against steel, hands brought together as the slices crush air, the stone before her cleaved open by immense force. Red hot in application, the energy dissipates as the Mage takes a centering breath, reaching outward towards the cut.

A fifty kilogram slab effortlessly tossed away with mechanical strength, the remaining level surface left scorching hot from applied energy.

Fast hands unpack ration kits, depositing their contents upon the heated rock with incredible speed.

“I am hungry.” Samantha speaks up as the scent of cooking arrives upon the desert air.

“What are you preparing?” Samuel asks the Mage quietly.

“Rations, cooked in desert fashion.” The Auditor replies with a smile. “As this will be a meal I am having with fellow children of the Collective, I thought it appropriate to prepare it in the traditions of our homeland.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

An open hand in invitation, she motions towards herself. “Come, sit. A meal is not truly complete without a collective to eat with.”

In silent consumption the trio of souls sits. The food hardly flavorful in its most basic form as survival rations, the preparation however enough to incite a singular word of conversation. The Auditor watches as the sibling pair eats, the subtle push and pull of minds tied in blood enough to trigger memories of a home in a land across desert sands.

The girl reaches for a morsel within the boy’s sector, him pushing her away with stern words. The complaint from tired minds reaches out in response, harkening towards the boy as he ignores his sister. The girl reaches outward with a plastic utensil, free arm grasping her brother’s emotionless face as she attempts to spear a small cut of protein from his portion.

An absolute calm mind against calamity and unrest, a hunch arriving upon the Auditor’s memory as she recognizes relation. Speaking as she finishes a mouthful of tuber starch, she stares directly at the pair. “You are twins, are you not?”

A fight stopped mid-way, the surprise on their faces easily read by a scholar of Observa magic. The Collective Auditor continues as she stares in realization. “You are a woven pair, twisari fratrem.”

In utter silence they watch her, the secret opened to the beast of augmentation.

“You are insightful, Auditor.” Samuel speaks through his sister’s hands.

“Of what district were you born in?” She follows up slowly.

A sense of panic arriving on the face of Samantha at the connection of knowledge, Samuel filling in suddenly. “When you return to the Collective, Auditor Manara, will you inform them of our location?”

An ice cold smile held from the inhuman form, unreadable in the honest giving of an ideology. “The Empress has assigned us to the districts for separation of duties, for me to inform upon you would be a violation of such a principle. If an Auditor has failed in her huntarus, then perhaps the Five themselves seek for you to form your own Collective, or perhaps the termination of an ineffective Auditor.”

“A wise ideal.” Samuel finishes with a deep breath.

“Take no injury, however it is a shame that you are a male Samuel.” The Mage continues. “A woven pair of augmentarus is a force of the divine. I have only personally seen one such example.”

“What do you mean?” Samantha asks.

Samuel answers for her as he carefully removes her hand from his face. “It is believed a pair of twins embody the twin gods of Stratos and Strata.”

“Such a religious ideology is exclusive to this present nation state.” The Auditor corrects. “We of the Collective believe that a woven pair holds a soul connection, a partnership more powerful than any other. When augmented together their combat potential is inconceivable.”

Samuel processes the words from the woman, a question offered. “And that is for the reason of an unseen connection, not due to differences in applied warfare tactics and training regiments?”

“You raise a common point.” The Collective Auditor notes. “However, it should not be denied the combat potential of a woven pair. Applying tactics and regiments elsewhere is inefficient.”

“A wise statement.” Samuel respectfully agrees.

A pause as the Auditor blinks, staring as the girl yawns lazily. “Was your night’s rest sufficient?”

“Samantha did not sleep.” Samuel answers for his sister.

“I did sleep.” The girl replies.

“Obviously not optimally.” Her brother adds as he stares at the Collective Mage. “Was your rest sufficient?”

She smiles. “I have no need for biological rest, however the night’s meditation has given me an insight into our approach to hunting the losethi mage.”

“Specify.” Samuel asks.

“Perhaps after the meal is complete.” The Auditor requests patiently. “My Father and Mother insisted that my discussions of battlefield tactics are not to be spoken over meals. Truthfully, it does as well create a sense of discomfort within the family unit.”

A short acknowledgement followed by silence, the meal finished without another word spoken between them.