A meditation practice rarely found. Alone against the base of the rock outcropping the singular form breathes in the subtle peace and quiet of the wasteland air. Minds identify each scent as the boy tastes the flavors of windswept dust, a myriad of colors unfolding a lost history upon the Baitan Plateau.

The sharp blades of glassed dust eroded over the centuries was picked up upon smooth sand brought by a distant desert breeze. A hailing of history long forgotten from the northlands, the eons passed comparatively nothing to rock and time.

He pauses as he considers such a concept, the rarity of peace among isolation allowing for a reconsideration of primary objectives. A short tactical analysis is run, within minds a skirmish unfolds between ill equipped forces and a singular Collective Auditor. Bullets and gravitons, differences in warfare creating a tight but definitive outcome.

The mental simulation is run again, and again. The addition of new factors: magical items, the caloric consumptions of augmentation, and even the rare third force intervention are all calculated and confirmed.

The necessity for backup plans added to mental storage, ambition tempered with the knowledge of a final termination in the coming days.

Above the boy a subtle distortion of air reaches down, the sense precluded by a short but loud scream. The Collective Auditor lands first, augmentation easily taking the brunt of a lethal fall as a cloud of dust rises from a direct impact.

Arms outstretched upward as arcane energy flows through her body, the form of the young girl is caught without hesitation as the creature gently sends forth tendrils of power.

A soft landing, the boy watching with amusement at his sibling’s arrival. “Was the excursion productive?”

“It was.” The Auditor answers as metal hands dust off clothing. “We have triangulated the location of the criminal collective: twelve kilometers distant directly north of this current position.”

“That will require another half-day’s travel.” Samuel concludes as he calculates an arrival time from distance and pace. “Such will be problematic. If we are to be in an optimal state for engagement.”

Rising from her fallen position, Samantha asks the question coldly. “Explain.”

Her brother nods. “It will be difficult to engage a hostile force when our physical resources are depleted from traveling. We will also need to acquire intelligence about the criminal collective’s current operational projection in order to guarantee a successful engagement.”

An idea comes to fruition, a timing section from ancient codices and tactical training. Auditor Manara speaks. “Given the travel progression of the day it would be productive for us to rest now and cycle our approach for tomorrow. We will have time then to gauge the criminal collective, and plan an engagement at the day’s end.”

Samuel processes the plan, another mental simulation run with new inputted factors. “If such is the case then we shall make camp at this location. Reserve tomorrow for travel, reconnaissance, and combat.”

“That is an effective use of our resources.” The Auditor agrees. “Samantha, are you…”

“I am in agreement.” Samantha turns tiredly to her brother. “Rest would be welcome at this moment.”

The Auditor turns to face the sky above her, five suns hanging perfectly still as the woman observes their current luminosity. Quickly dimming in power, an estimation is reached. “We have approximately one hour of sunlight remaining in this present day. Preparing a campsite here is optimal.”

“Then we shall camp here.” Samuel finishes as he drops his oversized backpack onto the rocky surface.

The night rises without event. A campsite the beacon of light against an ever present darkness, pushing back the tendrils of ancient gods slumbering beneath them. A cold wind soars through, temperature plummeting as gods above them fall to rest.

Among the three the girl is the first to pass out; the consumed meal of heavy cooking oil, salt, and protein aligning with a previously poor night’s rest to utterly destroy the conscious mind.

Dark hair across her face, the girl lies with her head on her brother’s thighs. Exhaustion necessitating extreme measures for rest, the uncomfortable pillow of cold, solid material an absolute luxury when compared to the alternatives.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Samuel observes as her breathing deepens, the sibling falling further into the world of dreams as he remains absolutely still.

“She sleeps so quickly.” Auditor Manara observes as she kneels down across from the boy.

“Samantha is quick to tire.” Samuel adds to the words. “It makes traveling inconvenient.”

The Auditor pauses as she smiles at the quaint statement. “That is a perplexing way of describing a necessary activity.”

“And this is spoken by an individual who does not require biological sleep.” Samuel stops the woman.

“The loss of a need does not follow it in practice.” Auditor Manara replies calmly as she observes Samantha’s chest move in deep breaths. “Even augmented I am still able to ‘sleep’ in a biological sense.”

“But yet such a practice is unnecessary.” The boy observes. “Why waste such a time for unconsciousness?”

The woman chuckles. “My presence within my familial collective is a near requirement for my siblings to find rest. My youngest sister and the second youngest brother, in particular, find difficulty in sleeping during my times of absence. And I cannot simply stand in meditation while they sleep.”

“And given District Two’s lack of losethi, you find yourself rarely traveling.” Samuel adds from a recalled statistic. “Therefore, your familial collective has adjusted to your presence within the household.”

“Such is true.” The woman speaks blankly. “And I am privileged to be an Auditor within such a district. An auditor of District Five, for an example, will rarely find herself in District Five.”

Samuel pauses as he retrieves the knowledge of books written by the academics in now federated cities. “It is not a fair example. District Five as the third largest district in the Armin Collective inherently produces losethi through statistical means. I believe the rate of defection is… point four percent over the course of an individual mage’s lifetime?”

“Point four one percent is an average across the Collective.” The Auditor agrees. “However, District Five is the closest to the Federated Cities. Such a proximity breeds disruptive cultures within the District’s Collective. The actual statistic is higher within the district’s boundaries.”

Samuel pauses as he stares into the woman’s stained blue eyes. An honest statement, judged by augmentation and insight. “I believe I understand such a mindset. There is an attractiveness to this Society. The individuality and freedoms provide an avenue of personal exploration.”

“There is an attractiveness.” Auditor Manara admits carefully as she once again repeats a conversation, a heresy stifled from her next words. “However all humans belong in a Collective. One cannot survive alone in this world.”

“The existence of the Auditors disproves such an ideal.” Samuel acknowledges with a logical argument. “You were created to travel alone through this world, to terminate the lost remnants of the Collective. It is a task that is executed alone.”

The Auditor blinks at the stalwart words, the philosophy of the losethi clashing against stern education. “I serve as an instrument of the Collective. I am perhaps alone during my hunatrus, but I am serving as a member of a larger self.”

“You serve alone.” Samuel corrects coldly. “Your service to a larger self is irrelevant to your status as an individual. I do not disagree with your statement that individuals require a collective; even the gods existed within their own civilization. However, the fact that you are alone in the Federated Cities represents a disconnect between the fundamental philosophies of the Armin Collective and its actual practice.”

The woman stops at the words, a quiet breath as she attempts to hide a smile. “You speak and analyze as though you are a Mage of the arcane school of kobari.”

“The manifestation of knowledge and applied intelligence is something I practice because of necessity. And my own abilities fall short of an actual kobari mage.” The boy speaks truthfully. “My true interest lies in the school of observa and its direct developments and applications.”

Auditor Manara pauses as she blinks, the strange interest peaking a short acknowledgement. “Observa is a school of augmentation rarely focused upon by Mages. Its practice is relegated to Auditors such as myself, Inquisitors, and as a secondary art for watchers. I speak with honesty: as its sole use is in observation it is at best relegated to a secondary focus.”

“Is Observa not the school of prediction and foresight as well?” Samuel asks rhetorically. “Does that not make it the most powerful of all schools?”

Auditor Manara stares at the boy with cold intent as she hears the words. “There were mages in the observa school who could execute such feats. But such events occurred in the era before and during the Old War. Now, such a divine gift no longer exists within the Collective.”

The wind picks up as the pair of souls remain silent, the boy watching as his sister breathes slowly in deep sleep.

“We became too powerful for the gods.” Samuel concludes.