> We fought so hard to survive the Initialization, so when we finally reached equilibrium with our new and far more dangerous world, we thought we’d won a great victory. In reality, the fight had yet to even begin.

Jeremiah Braddock III

“Don’t try to run off,” my uncle said, reading my intentions like a book. When your guardian is a man who borders on the omniscient, it makes it difficult to get away anything. “You won’t make it.”

“I wasn’t going to,” I lied. There was a part of me that thought I was close enough to the exit to get away, but that thought only lasted a moment before it was completely destroyed by reality. My uncle, for all I’d grown to resent him, was at least Tier Five. I wouldn’t get one step before he closed the gap, and that was being generous. There was a reason he practically ruled the Garden, and it definitely wasn’t because of his sparkling personality.

He smiled, the expression never touching his eyes. How long had it been since I’d seen him genuinely happy? Years, certainly. Maybe not since before my father had died, leaving me in my uncle’s care. It had hit him almost as hard as it had hit me, and that was saying something. Since then, he’d tried to take care of me as best he could, but he’d never been the fatherly type. Usually, his parenting strategy boiled down to locking me in the apartment at the top of our megabuilding and keeping me busy with games, entertainment streams, or training.

“It’s time for you to come home,” he said, sitting on my ratty couch. He ran his finger over the faux leather fabric. “Why did you choose this spot to set up shop?”

I chose to ignore the question. “I’m doing just fine on my own,” I said – another lie. I’d already lost almost ten pounds since running away – ten pounds that I really couldn’t afford to lose. It wasn’t that I didn’t know how to survive; rather, it was more that survival without skills was incredibly difficult to pull off. Even the poorest among the citizenry had some means of contributing. For my part, I could only steal what I needed, and even that was harder than it should have been. Anything worth stealing was worth paying a couple of thugs to guard, hence my recent brush with Turk and his subordinate mooks.

“Maybe,” my uncle allowed. He stepped forward, and in only an instant, he’d covered the ground between us – at least fifteen feet. He gripped my thin arm and inspected it. With a derisive tone, he said, “Maybe not.”

My uncle was Tier-5, but that by itself wasn’t a guarantee of power. I wasn’t exactly sure how it all worked. Being unawakened, nobody had bothered to explain it to me. However, I knew that a person’s tier was only an indicator of their potential. Without the right skills or training, it would be useless. Jeremiah wasn’t like that. He was just as dangerous and powerful as his tier might suggest.

I tried to jerk away, but he held onto my arm with a vicelike grip. It wasn’t like Turk’s, which was aided by a cybernetic. As far as I knew, my uncle only had a couple of implants – optics, an arsenal implant, and a skeletal enhancement that made his bones almost unbreakable – so his grip was powered almost entirely by his own stats.

Jeremiah looked down at the package I was still clutching to my chest. It was just a box, though its logo doubtless told him that it wasn’t something I’d just found in one of the alleys. “What did you take? And more importantly, who’d you take it from?” he asked, ripping the box out of my hands.

“That’s mine!” I protested, but what was I going to do? If he wanted something of mine, he was going to get it. I just wasn’t strong enough for it to be otherwise.

“And now it’s mine,” he said, letting me go. I knew better than to challenge him. He wouldn’t hurt me – not permanently – but I wasn’t eager to get a lesson on dominance. I’d been on the receiving end of plenty of those, and I wasn’t prepared to endure yet another. “What did you steal, I wonder? Let’s see.”

I held my breath as he ripped the top off of the box, revealing the contents. For a moment, a look of confusion crossed his face. Then, he smiled – this time, it was a genuine expression of amusement. He looked up at me as he retrieved my prize from its box. He raised a heavy eyebrow, saying, “Really? A pair of boots?”

My heart sank into my stomach. I knew good and well that I’d been stupid to target the boots, especially when my efforts would have been better directed at getting food or some other necessity. But in my defense, these weren’t just any boots. They were THE boots. Almost knee high, and with a chunky heel, they were made of black leather and covered in a wide range of straps and buckles. Highlighting the black leather were splashes of neon green – my favorite color.

I’d wanted them from the very moment I had found them, and I was willing to risk just about anything to get them. So, I’d hatched a plan to set up a distraction in Farooq’s store while I snuck in the back and snatched them right out from under his nose. It was only because I tripped on my way out that he’d even known I was there, but the moment he saw me with the box, he’d sent his goons after me.

“Tell me how you got them,” he said. “Walk me through it.”

I groaned, rolling my eyes. He didn’t care that I’d stolen them. Jeremiah wasn’t too keen on obeying laws. No one was, really. So long as the city didn’t erupt into a warzone, the powers that be wouldn’t descend from their ivory towers in wealthy districts like King’s Row or Lakeview. As far as they were concerned, everyone could fend for themselves. If they weren’t strong enough to protect their interests, then they didn’t deserve them. And Uncle Jeremiah was a perfect example of the kind of man who thrived in such circumstances.

After sighing, I told him how I’d set up a pair of harmless bombs – little more than noise, really – to distract Farooq’s and his goons’ attention. Then, I recounted how I’d snuck in through a vent on the roof, found my quarry, and snatched it. He frowned when I admitted to tripping and alerting Farooq, but he actually seemed proud that I’d managed to escape from a known Tier-Three and whatever Pegleg and Vanilla were.

“You know what you did wrong, don’t you?” he said.

I nodded. “I tripped, and –”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“No. You went wrong the moment you decided to target someone stronger than you,” he said. “Farooq recognized you. So did Turk. Tell me – what are you going to do about it? They won’t let this lie.”

“You could –”

“I’ve already taken care of it,” he said with a sigh. Showing the first real sign of humanity, he ran his hand over his bald head, saying, “I swear to God – you’re more trouble than you’re worth sometimes. Your real sin is not having enough power. I don’t care that you tried to steal from Farooq. He’s an asshole, and he’s needed to be put in his place for a while now. But listen to me, Mirabelle. You can’t go through life without power. Not now, and not with what’s coming.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “And don’t use my full name like that. It sounds wrong.”

I hated my name, which was why I went by the shortened version. Mira sounded so much better than Mirabelle. Jeremiah didn’t agree, probably because I was named after his sister, my great grandmother. He didn’t care about many people, but family had always been incredibly important to him.

“You’re not going in for the public evaluation,” he said. “I’ve set everything up. Now, gather whatever you can’t live without. We’re going home. I’ve got a lot to tell you and not much time to do it.”

“W-what?” I asked, surprised. “But everybody goes.”

That wasn’t an exaggeration, either. Literally everyone went in for the public evaluation before being assigned a Nexus Implant. Some people came out higher-tiered than others, but that was just a natural expression of someone’s innate power.

“Not everyone,” he stated.

I narrowed my eyes in annoyance. Things would have been so much easier if he just explained things to me. But no – according to him, that wasn’t possible. If he revealed too much, he would be sanctioned by the system. Then, suddenly, a thought came to mind.

“Are you a Templar?!” I blurted, putting it all together. Jeremiah was one of the strongest men in Nova City, and what’s more, nobody ever messed with him. On top of that, I knew that Templars didn’t have Nexus Implants. I wasn’t sure how it worked, but they were definitely superhuman, even when compared to Tier-3 people like Turk. It made so much sense that Jeremiah would be one of them, and the moment that thought crossed my mind, I knew it was true. More than that, I just knew he was going to turn me into one as well.

My hopes were dashed when he erupted into a great guffaw of laughter. Jeremiah didn’t often show any emotions other than anger, annoyance, or stoic patience, so the outburst took me by surprise.

“Me…a Templar…oh, that’s a good one,” he said, dramatically gasping for breath as he slapped his knee. He wiped a tear from his eye, adding, “That made my day, Mirabelle. Really. Thank you for that. It almost makes up for what you did.”

“Glad I could amuse you,” I muttered.

He stood, saying, “Come on. We’ve got a lot to do.”

“Wait!” I said, reaching out to grab his arm. I missed, because of course I did – if he didn’t want to be grabbed, he wouldn’t be. “Please. Can I show you why I moved to this spot?”

He sighed. “Fine,” Jeremiah said. “But then we head back. No more questions until we get home, either. There are ears everywhere.”

“Oookay,” I said, rolling my eyes. “C’mon.”

With that, I took off back the way I had come. I didn’t bother slowing my pace; Jeremiah could keep up without even trying, and despite having lived down there for a while, I couldn’t ignore how disgusting it sometimes was. The water wasn’t that bad, even if it was a little dirty. But everything else about it was, as Jeremiah had said, disgusting. First, there was the ubiquitous scum that coated everything. I wasn’t sure if it was algae, fungus, or something inorganic, but I did know I didn’t like it because, well, who would, right? It was just green-brown gunk, with no redeeming qualities. Then, there were the occasional carcasses. I’d only ever seen one human body down there, but there were plenty of animals – mostly birds and various reptiles – to make up for the lack. And where there were dead animals, there were live scavengers. Giant roaches the size of a toddler, rats just as big, and various other creepy crawlies that made me glad I could shut my cistern off from the rest of the drainage tunnels.

Anyway – that’s all to say that I didn’t want to linger long, especially knowing that I would soon be topside and in the comfort of my uncle’s place, which occupied an entire floor of the Garden’s tallest building. But a housing project was still a housing project, right? Even the undisputed king of a place like the Garden was nothing to the real people in charge.

Finally, I closed in on my destination. I turned back to make sure that Jeremiah hadn’t lagged behind, and predictably, he hadn’t. He didn’t even look like he’d gotten his feet wet. The asshole.

Grumbling, I continued on, turning a couple of times before finding a ladder that descended even further. I climbed down without hesitation, and the moment I dropped into the next corridor, I was buffeted by a strong wind that carried with it a host of unfamiliar smells. After living in Nova for my whole life, I was used to the scents of the city. Human body odor, garbage, waste, and stagnant water mixed with the aroma of the food carts, the heady perfume so many of the women preferred, and the distinct smell of a hover car’s misty exhaust to give the city a unique odor. But the wind carried with it something else, something new. It was one of the reasons I loved the spot so much.

Without stopping, I strode down the tunnel, ever watchful for an aggressive insect. They weren’t that common, but I’d found myself on the wrong end of a pair of pincers often enough that I didn’t want to take any chances. Especially with Jeremiah there, watching my every move. Despite the fact that I knew he cared about me, I’d never been able to shake the feeling that he was always evaluating me, but for what, I had no idea. Given his cryptic words from earlier, I thought I might soon find out.

Eventually, we reached the spot that was my destination.

“I should have known,” was Jeremiah’s response.

I barely heard him as I looked through the metal grate and saw the world outside the city. The delta was far below, but the green vegetation and murky water seemed so mysterious to me. Often, I would come to this spot and just imagine exploring the swamp, having adventures, and seeing the world beyond Nova’s boundaries. It was a pipe dream, of course. Almost no one was allowed outside the city. But the world so far below had captured my imagination like nothing else ever had.

“There used to be a city down there, you know,” he said, sitting next to the grate. I joined him. “New Orleans. Not directly below us. South of us. But it’s almost all underwater, now.”

“I know,” I said. Everyone knew at least that much, but few knew the whole story. “It was a tidal wave or something, right?”

“After the Nano Cloud hit Earth, all of our old technology quit working,” he said. “Including the pumps and levies that kept the city from being flooded. At first, it was fine, but when the storms started coming, the city was lost. Until we built Nova City. Back then, it was just a single pylon. Now, it’s one of the biggest cities in the world.”

As I listened, I looked out at the environment; clearly visible were the city’s support pillars – giant cylinders of nano-reinforced concrete that held Nova aloft. It was a necessity, given the nature of the environment below, but I still regretted that I would never get to experience true wilderness.

We sat there for a long time – an hour, at least. Neither of us said anything else. We just enjoyed the view. Or I did, at least. I never got tired of it. However, I got the feeling that Jeremiah was lost in thought; he was one of the few people still around who’d lived through the Initialization, and I knew he’d lost a lot of friends during that transitional period. Doubtless, he was thinking about the years of struggle he – and everyone else back then – had been forced to endure.

Finally, he let out a tired sigh, then said, “Okay. Playtime’s over. Like I said before, we have a lot to talk about.”

I mimicked his sigh – not my fault; I was raised by the man, so it was only natural that I’d pick up some of his mannerisms – and said, “Fine. Let’s go home, then.”