I sat in Justinias’s office in the Team Nine underground headquarters. He had been calling us aside one by one to discuss classes that we would take.

“How did you do that, by the way? How did you shut down my inner fire?” I asked the instructor.

I had no idea how he had just ended the divine power of Heracles’s pyre just by touching me.

“Thermokinesis.” Justinias replied, still looking at a datapad. “Lets you generate heat, manipulate and move it, and leech it from existence.”

“But how do you use thermokinesis? I’ve never heard of an Imperator doing what you did.” I pressed him.

“The psychic arts go beyond generating skinshields, and blue flames and weapons made of mental energy.” The instructor said.

“What can it do then?” I said.

“Technically? Anything. The psychic arts are the usage of mental and emotional resources to transform the matter and energy around you, restructure it, reshape it, redefine it. Functionally and in practice? Only that which you can imagine and sustain, which for many Imperators of our subspecies means parlor tricks. Weak wills, poor focus, and slow minds make for inferior powers. It’s only really Gold Imperators that can really show you something that could be called sorcery.” Justinias said.

“Like what? What can Golds do?” I said, enthralled.

Justinias raised a hand in the air. He snapped his fingers and the room filled with roaring heat, papers on his desk sent flying, their edges charring.

“I’m stronger with psychic powers than most Bronzes, even most Silver Imperators. I can melt and mold any metal with my hands, from warship hulls to heat resistant nanites to Apollium given by the sun god, I can sear the flesh of any being lesser than a Silver Imperator, I could warm a city with my heat if only for a short time, just a few moments.” Justinias said, watching his hand radiate heat that warped the air around his fingers in a blurry haze as if those facts still surprised him.

“A Gold though? A Gold could turn a world of ice into a tropical paradise, could melt continents worth of urban development down to a sea of molten metal, glass, and stone.” He continued.

He snapped his fingers again, and this time all the tremendous heat in the room was sucked back into his waiting hand and my breath was visible in the chill. Frost was forming on the desk.

“I can freeze any mundane substance, create localized winters…” He eyed me. “I can place a foolish science experiment in a much-needed time out before he kills himself and another student.”

“Sorry,” I said weakly, embarrassed. The divine flame had flared my passions and consumed my sense of self control and merciful restraint.

“A Gold though? A Golden Imperator can freeze seas and survive in the core of a star.” He said. “That is the level of power you’re dealing with. The psychic arts can strengthen your body, give you flight, telekinesis, control of the elements, create unbreakable armor so long as you have the will to maintain it. And Golden Imperators are masters of these powers, the same psychic power that will let me rise to the Apollonian Citadel without help is used by the Golds to fly between worlds at a whim. And that’s not even getting into their physical abilities.”

“Are they really just smarter than other people that they can do such things?” I said.

“Smarter? Perhaps. It’s best not to assign human conceptions of intelligence to them, there’s nothing human left about the Nine no matter how well they hide their true nature.” He said. “They can be tricked and outplayed, but they don’t conform to normal human behavior or limitations. Think of them more like a crocodile given photographic memory and a calculator.”

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“How does the Regent control them? How does he keep nine of these monsters against their wills on Terra?” I said, shaking my head as I thought about what Clodias had told me.

“Because Augustas Heraclides is an even more terrible creature than all of the Dread Golds combined. One that not even the gods or the Fates can control anymore.” Justinias said.

“You say that like that’s a bad thing that he has grown so mighty. Like my grandfather is a bad person.” I protested, feeling a desire to defend my newfound family. “He’s not, he’s a great man.”

Justinias studied me. “Do you like the Dominium?”

“What do you mean? There’s nothing to like or dislike, it simply is and will always be.” I said.

“It does not have to be the way it is. Again, do you like the Dominium? The way it treats people, the way it divides and defines them?” Justinias said.

I thought of the way Imperators despised and looked down on Servi and how Servi like the flight attendants hated Imperators.

“No.” I whispered.

“Everything that this empire is, every glory and sin it has accrued, is exactly how Augustas wills it.” The instructor said.

“He can’t control everyone, can’t be held accountable for every bad thing that happens. There’s too many people, spread too far from one another across the stars.” I said.

“He has the power to destroy all those who defy him and the might to dominate all those under his command, and an eternity of time to accomplish his goals. He is a demigod perfected and an Imperator refined to its final state combined into one being. One man. This Dominium could look like anything he wanted.” Justinias said.

“Why are you telling me this? I could get you in trouble for saying these things.” I said

He laughed. “I don’t care. I already lost my job as the Psy-science instructor and got kicked to this job so I don’t care if I lose it, and no one who will really care about my words is strong enough to do anything to me and no one who is strong enough cares at all what a washed up Bronze like me has to say.”

I sat back at a loss for words.

“Now, let’s get your classes and extracurriculars set up, shall we?” He said.

“Okay, yeah.” I said, glad to be moving on.

“There are your required first year classes that you have to get out of the way, which are Swordsmanship, Marksmanship, Advanced Mathematics, Cultivator Anatomy, Logistics, and Tactics.” Justinias said.

“Logistics and tactics classes, but not strategy?” I asked.

“Those two come first here. They’re considered the foundational basics. Strategy classes are for second years.” Justinias said.

“And the extracurriculars? Can I see a list of them?” I said.

“Nope.” He smiled.

“Why not?” I said.

“Most of the time us counselors would let you runts choose your extra classes, but I, in my infinite wisdom, have decided to relieve you of that burden and make those decisions myself.” The instructor said.

“Thanks.” I said sarcastically. “What did you get me? Something combat based, I hope?”

“No, not really. I have done a great deal of thinking over the three seconds I spent deciding your course load, and I think Xenobiology, Beginner Theurgy, Jovium Alloy Material Science, and Cryptography will do you good, balance out that brawn with some brain.” Justinias said. “You’re dismissed, call Kato in after you.”

He shooed me away, turning back to his datapad.

I got up out of my seat and walked back to the others in the main area of the headquarters.

“Kato. You’re up.” I said, and he high fived me as we crossed paths.

Besides Andarias, the others were still avoiding looking at me. I decided to fix that.

“Okay, everyone, as your Spartiate I’m going to need your names.” I said loudly and authoritatively. “I already know Kato, Aurelia, Andarias and Pollixa but the rest of you five I don’t know yet.”

“I’m Flavinia.” A girl with short white hair said, close to a pixie cut in length.

“Pontias.” A boy said. He fidgeted with nervous energy.

“I’m Alkias.” The next boy said. “Your highness.” He added on hastily.

“I am Asteria,” the girl with long hair that hung down her back said.

“Corondrias,” The last boy said. He met my eyes coolly.

“You’re my team now, and we’re going to win whatever tasks are in our way, even if I have to drag you over the finish line.” I said.

They all nodded.

“You look tired, Lucion.” Aurelia said suddenly.

I stiffened slightly and then straightened and put on a strong smile.

“Just a little worn out, no need to worry.” I said. “I’ll be fine in a few hours.”

I was not sure about that though. Using the flame of Heracles’s funeral pyre to empower myself apparently had a cost Augustas had not deigned to inform me that my regeneration would not just wipe the invisible wear and tear away at will. I felt like when I was younger and had first gotten Copper Servus at my thirteenth birthday and how injuries and soreness would remain after a hard day of work into the next day. My nerves and veins felt scraped raw, and my fingers trembled unless I forced them steady. Each step felt like I was in a high gravity chamber and each breath felt like I was breathing in the vacuum of space.

“Yes, I’m fine.” I repeated, selling that lie to them as hard as I could. Maybe even I could believe it if I lied well enough.

I looked at Andarias. He was my friend now, apparently sincerely, but how long would that last if he scented weakness like a shark smelling blood in the water?