The lack of sunrise really threw me off.

I’d never realized just how much I relied on visual cues to show time passing. Morning, afternoon, evening, night. Here, we had an eternal twilight. Light from the world we’d left cast everything in flat blue-grey dimness, like bright moonlight in the wrong hue.

I knew I’d get used to it in time, but right now it was just one more disorienting thing.

The landscape shared little similarity with the home I’d left behind. There, we’d had grass and trees and rivers and the endless ocean. Wherever you flew, the scene below would always be variations on greens and blues, with the occasional stone-grey of mountains around Metako and Leetan, or the red-browns of cliff-sides in Varon and Utrenad.

Here, greenery was plentiful only within the dome, around and throughout the buildings as constant decoration, but the ground was flat unworked stone, the buildings stone, the landscape outside unbroken empty dust and more stone.

I had yet to meet my hall mates, who shared the kitchen, but I'd noticed the food stores fluctuating so knew they'd been around. I also hadn't attended any classes yet, uncertain how to approach the whole affair. If I started right away, I'd be sure to attract notice as the newcomer. But I'd also be able to study and learn things quicker. In theory, it would be the preferable option to improve my power and control.

But I didn't particularly care for that part of it either. The idea of going back to school, of playing childish power games with morons, of sitting in a class for hours ... it did not appeal to me in the slightest.

I'd much prefer a private tutor, quiet lessons, leaving me plenty of free time to pursue my personal aims. Or, barring that, perhaps I should devote my full attention to mastering my powers on my own.

I knew the basics. How much different could it be with three powerhues instead of one? Purple and yellow weren’t that much different from teal. Right?

I spent the next several day-equivalents in frustrated efforts to reclaim my basic ability to fly and cast simple constructs. I refused to remain incapable of even the most simple task without the power breaking down, and had no distractions to divert my attention and no other purpose but my drive to succeed.

Gradually I learned to walk, learned to fly, learned to keep up a steady flow of power to a construct as it inevitably leaked. It wasn’t perfect, far from the ordinary standard, but it worked.

Not all of the difficulty in flying came from my unstable power, I discovered when I took off for a careful practice flight. Erae felt lighter somehow, less thick to fly through. The slightest upward push sent me far higher than it would have back on the island.

On what I decided to call the fifth evening, though I'd long since lost track of the days and there wasn’t much anything but evening, I made my way to the arena for the first time. I flew steadily, my power correcting itself for fluctuations.

I'd surrounded myself with a thicker and more flexible protective shell, intended to redirect rather than resist any attempts at mental injection. But I still worried that it wouldn't be enough. I had no idea how long Skypower had been training his strength, how much more he could bring to bear against me than I could put up in defence. I wanted to crush him, but raw flailing power would be of no use here. I had to be patient and learn subtlety.

It would be hard, but worth it. I had to keep telling myself that. Don’t go rushing into a head-on fight you can’t win.

There were people already occupying the arena when I arrived, several of whom were looking particularly irritated at one another. Three young women were trying to convince a fourth something, with increasing vehemence. The fourth refused to listen, making obvious defiant gestures and kept trying to fly away.

I flew closer, curious to know what would have them so determined to hold her to the ground. They dispelled her flight whenever she tried to take off, one was physically holding her arm to keep her down.

"What's going on here?" I asked with as much casual unconcern as I could muster.

"None of your business," snapped the would-be escapee, glaring venomously at me. "Who are you, anyway?" one of the others asked, frowning at me.

"Fonli Ra— ah, Merten. Fonli Merten."

"New arrival," muttered a third girl, the one who was fastest at disruption spiking the attempts at escape.

"Indeed, I am a new arrival. And I find myself more than a little disturbed by the caliber of people in whose company I must remain. Is this really the best the world has to offer?"

The first girl shrugged. "Why's it matter to you? None of your business."

Well, if she didn't want my help, fine; I didn’t need to interfere. "It doesn't really. Carry on."

I turned my back to them, surveying the arena. The bottom layer was set up like a maze, lines of light dividing it into cells that could either be solid or permeable. I flew slowly down to enter the maze, crashing into a few walls as I tried to make my way through it, but mazes weren't my kind of challenge. Without opponents, without a goal, it felt rather pointless.

The upper layer was more satisfactory, scoring areas and obstacles for Verdis. Verdis was much more my kind of game than Ryshglide. Less random, more skill. Ryshglide did still require skill, of course, but not to the same extent. Verdis claimed consistently higher viewership for good reason.

No one was playing at present, but lingering obstacles in varied hues indicated it had been used recently. There were people around who cared, and I'd find them sooner or later.

I didn't like admitting how much I’d been offput by the initial group of bullies, how hesitant it made me to engage with anyone here at all. If this was an example of the sort of people who came here, I wasn't sure I wanted to be part of it.

The girls had resumed their argument, but I left them to it.

A few hours running through the obstacles helped my control far more than my tentative attempts at home. The focus and dexterity required helped me regain some confidence in my flight, and by the time I left the arena I felt much better about my chances.

Temporary power stabilization and basic movement, check. I’d keep practicing basic and advanced movement every day, come to the arena and get into shape for the next team selections. Hopefully by then I would be strong enough to resist Skypower’s stupid hazing and set myself up as someone worth noticing.

Now to figure out how in all the depths to split up the broken power and use the different hues independently. That was going to be another challenge entirely.

On my way home, someone knocked me out of the air, dispelling my flight construct right out from under me.

I fell to the ground, thankful that it was a solid power surface and not the disruptive dust outside. My shields absorbed the impact, proving the interruption more irritation than danger, but I still leapt to my feet and spun to face my assailants.

No one. They'd disrupted my flight and left without so much as an acknowledgment of my existence. Was that a streak of Skypower's unnaturally pale blue in the distance? I did not chase him, but mentally filed one more grievance in my internal vault. He really wanted to get on my bad side, didn't he?

I jogged back to the housing area, regulating my movement to adapt to the thinner air here. If I wasn't careful, I'd trip over myself or step too far. But I'd been practicing, so I could manage without actually hurting myself.

I ran around the interior of the primary dome a few times, went through some basic power forms, and practiced punching and kicking until I could do so without the odd momentum of Erae knocking me off balance. I didn't know if physical fighting would ever be necessary, but there was no harm in having more ways to protect myself.

The next day, someone from administration came by to inform me that my dereliction had been noticed and I should probably consider attending at least one class at my earliest convenience. I gave the messenger an unimpressed stare and he backed off, but I knew that would only buy me so much time.

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Guess there was no way to put it off forever. Time to go back to school.

I chose 'Space Combat Basics' as the primary class. It was in the recommendations, and I'd always wanted to learn how to fight properly. Do everything at once. Fulfill the stupid bureaucratic requirements, and learn something potentially useful.

It took exactly one class to discover that 'Basics' were still beyond my experience so far as to be incomprehensible. Joining mid-8cycle might not have been the best of ideas.

Today they were discussing something about using compressed bursts of air to propel yourself quickly in unexpected directions. Since air could permeate any power construct you could possibly make, I didn't see how that was relevant.

But, no. As it went on I realized they assumed we could all make power constructs tight enough that even air couldn't escape. What kind of obsessive focus would that take? I couldn't fathom it. Hard enough to make it impermeable to water, let alone air. Before today, I'd have said it was impossible.

They assumed a lot of things which I had no frame of reference for, referring to terms that clearly meant something but made no sense without understanding their broader context.

I left the class more confused than when I left it.

But at least Skypower wasn't sharing the room, so I didn't have to see his face - and he didn't have the chance to sabotage me any further.

"You seemed confused," said a quiet voice. It was one of the arguing girls from the other day, the dispeller.

"Yeah, just a little. Lots of new concepts in that."

"Did you collect your books?"

No, I had not.

"Come on, I'll help you get them." She started toward another building whose purpose I'd yet to discover, and I followed.

"You're pretty good with your power," I said by way of conversation. "I'm impressed."

"I haven't done anything."

"The other day, you were spot on perfect in your disruptions. Very elegant."

She blinked, then smiled. "Oh, I'd forgotten you saw that. Thank you. I do take pride in my ability to construct quickly and accurately."

"How many powerhues do you have?"

She regarded me without answering, and I began to think I'd made some social slip no one had warned me of. You never know with these little in-groups. Always with their little unspoken rules.

"I have three," I said, to cover up my awkward discomfort at her silence. "Teal, purple, yellow. I've been told I need to separate them to use them properly, but I don't know how to."

She smiled faintly. "Then you've got a long way to go." She pointed to the sign by the door. "There, equipment and supplies. Tell them your name and you'll be all set."

Before I could answer, she launched herself into the air on a streak of silver light.

Silver. Enhancement.

That did explain the control. Silvers had a reputation for high control. Of course, purples had a reputation for being miserable to be around, so reputation had to be taken with due consideration. Everyone could very easily be wrong. But in this instance, the stereotype held true.

Powerhue was one of those uncomfortable things that technically it’s illegal to judge people by, but everyone still knows what it means. Yellow, high chance of fires. Pink, going to be racing around impatiently.

Teal, protector and bringer of life. Heh.

Yeah. Sometimes, what ‘everyone knows’ is just flat wrong.

“You don’t need to knock,” said someone from inside, apparently taking my musing for hesitation.

“Alright.” I entered. “Fonli Merten. I was told I can get my course books here?”

“Yes.” She looked me over, then frowned at the paperwork on the counter. “You’ve been here for weeks and this is the first you’ve realized you need your textbooks?”

I shrugged. “Different priorities.” Had it really been weeks? Time slipped away. Hard to track without things like day and night, only the perpetual circling of our distant homeworld. From here it looked so small, so vulnerable. That was the point, really, to protect it from afar.

“I need to get into the contests. How do I sign up for patrols and everything?”

“Slow down, you need to meet the requirements before you can leave the shield.”

“And what are those?”

“They are written in your welcome packet.”

Oh, the useless stack of pages I hadn’t looked at once. Maybe they weren’t entirely useless, then.

She frowned deeper, and I wondered if I was projecting again. I thought I’d gotten a hold on that, but …

“Yes, you’re projecting. Please stop.”

I shrugged. “Not sure how.”

“You really should read your welcome packet then,” she said, exasperation leaking into her voice. “It includes a guide to all the frequently asked questions of new multihued.”

Fine, maybe I would have to go give it a second glance. I collected the stack of textbooks, shelved them in a quick niche I added to the edge of my protective sphere, and took off for the apartments.

Once I deposited my new books in the sitting room, I headed for the kitchen.

There, I had my first encounter with one of my house-mates.

Dref Utrenad was short, pale, and had an inclination to fidget. I got the distinct impression he wanted nothing to do with me, or anyone, and smiled cordially as we silently went about our separate food preparation routines. He chose greens and light meat, with an emphasis on spices which I couldn't begin to follow. I grabbed a burger of undefined source, added enough oil and garlic to cook it slowly to my preference, and as an afterthought tossed some onions in to round it out as I rummaged through cabinets for the correct roll.

"You know how annoying it is to know we have to wait three days between deliveries?" Dref complained, picking wilted greens out of his bowl and tossing them with a look of disgust.

I nodded, as though I cared about three-day-old greens.

"Why are you here?" he asked, frowning over at me. "You don't look like the usual sort for this place."

I frowned. "Usual sort?"

He gestured at the frying pan. "Most people wouldn't take the time."

I snorted. "Really? I'm sure that's wrong."

"No. They're impatient, don't know how to do anything without their servants. It sounds strange to say I'm glad I could never afford help, but ..." he shrugged.

"All this from a burger." I went searching for some cheese.

"It just feels like you're more normal, y'know? Like you might understand."

I glanced back at him just as he looked away, haunted expression in his pale eyes. "I don't know."

"Well, no one thinks they're abnormal—"

"I don't know why I'm here." I turned the burger, put the cheese on top, stirred the onions. "My power broke somehow. It's stronger now, but wild. They said it wasn't safe to stay. I had no reason to stay, so I didn't fight it."

"Power doesn't break, not—" he gestured to my chest, where the glowing lump of my heartstone resided, hidden by my shirt.

I glanced down and shook my head. "Not physically. But..." I put out a hand, painted a quick construct of light and power, flat teal shot through with jagged-lightning veins of purple and yellow. I could see the strain, the incompatibility. "It doesn't hold together."

Dref considered it with a frown. "That's going to be hard to integrate," he said. A quick wave of his hand left a trail of lavender light, a hue I'd never seen before. That was becoming more and more commonplace since arriving here.

There were ten base colours. Individual power could be a variation on one of them, but it always fell within common margins. Yellow power was always bright flame just shy of gold; blue always had a deep cobalt, purple always clear violet. Lavender? That was no powerhue I'd ever seen. It wasn't purple, wasn't blue, wasn't silver. Same with Skypower, his blue was whiter than cyan, lighter than blue.

People here had weird power and I wasn't used to it yet.

"What happened, when your power split?" Dref asked.

"I don't remember it very clearly."

Blood and lightning and destruction, screaming

lashing out

kill...

"I remember mine." Dref said, then fell silent. I didn't press him for details.

I slid the burger onto the bun, piled the onions on top, slipped the strays into my mouth with a quick flare of power to cool them to safe temperatures. It may not be up to restaurant standards, but it was good enough to satisfy me. I'd never been the pickiest of cooks.

"Is that important," I asked, "the time and location of the fracture?"

"I don't know." Dref stared into his half-prepared dish as though he'd forgotten what he was doing, something he'd be baking by the looks of it.

"When you say integrate, is that dividing the power for usability?"

"Hmm? No. No, that's the first step. You integrate after, bring it back together properly. Dethread it, then fuse it. It's hard."

"What are you doing here?" I asked. "You seem..." I trailed off and he laughed.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. You just get used to it after a while. People are still people, whether you're here or there. It's calmer here. More freedom, less obligations. And the obligations we do have, they actually matter y'know? When I'm patrolling, I know that any flash of light might be an incursion. When you fly around down there, it's all so ... meaningless. You know? They're like children. And that's good, because sometimes people having the power to be innocent is valuable, but ... it isn't for me."

He blinked at his pile of ingredients, then started chopping up a pepper with clean, practiced movements.

I couldn’t say I agreed, but I hadn’t been here long enough to be certain he was wrong, so I made a noncommittal noise instead.

“It’s good,” he said after a silence. “Good to have a place, a purpose. A fight worth fighting, and a position earned.”

I nodded. I wasn’t convinced this place was worth fighting for, but I could see what he meant about purpose. It was hard, living without a purpose. For a while it would be fine, so long as you didn’t pay attention to the deeper emptiness in what you did. But once the facade of comfort and insignificant contests was stripped away, once you realized the true inevitable purposelessness of it all, you couldn’t go back. After that, the only way forward was to grab something and chase it with everything you had. Don’t stop, don’t hesitate, or the emptiness would be waiting.

My hand tightened around the plate.

"Nice meeting you, Dref," I said hollowly.

"You too, Fonli."

I took my dinner and left.

So there were sane, ordinary people here. That was reassuring. I'd begun to worry that only the dangerously insane resided on this quiet prison. It made my plan to destroy those who deserved it feel more correct. It wasn't merely a personal vendetta. I'd be making the place safer for future and present people as well.

Starfall isn't going to give you the time to shield. There was truth there, but everyone knew it already. No need for a practical demonstration. Especially an unsanctioned, clearly personally motivated one.

Did we need to be aware that mental incursions happened? Yes.

Did we need to prepare for them? Of course.

Did we need to use that as an excuse to be cruel to anyone we could get away with? I don't think so.

I flipped through the stack of textbooks until I found one on space combat, then settled down to enjoy my meal. Next time I wouldn’t be so unprepared.

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