Monday, April 1st, 2069
“Good morning, students,” Miss Chavez said from the front of the auditorium style classroom.
No one returned the greeting, and I wasn’t the only one who took a sip of coffee. Chavez was my teacher for Portal Materials and Common Uses II, and she always had a habit of being a bit too high energy. Since this was a late night class and my final one of the day, I was just hoping to get through it—hence the extra-large cup of caffeine.
My only response, other than the sip of coffee, was a sigh. At least, she wasn’t making a poor attempt at April Fools' humor, like my morning teachers.
I didn’t think of Miss Chavez as particularly attractive but was clearly in the minority in that opinion. This class was required for my Bachelor but was a common elective for many others. Thus, it only took a quick glance around the room to highlight the male to female ratio of the class's attendance and correlate just how many males enjoyed the bubbly Chavez’s appearance. I guess I could see the appeal. She wasn’t hard to look at but was a bit too short for my tastes.
Not that a tall, too-young looking guy, with a single Awakened Skill and living at home with his parents really had room for tastes…
I shook myself off my tangent and took another gulp of coffee. When I realized Chavez had continued speaking. I tuned back in as she said, “— the course curriculum is listed on the outline. If you didn’t get an outline, they were available on my desk on your way in. If you lose yours, or prefer to save paper, you can download another one from your WhiteBoard Portal.”
A hand shot into the air, and Chavez turned a withering stare at the offending student. “If you don’t have access to your WhiteBoard, then you might want to drop this second-year course, since you clearly shouldn’t be here.”
The hand dropped faster than it went up and Chavez smiled sadly for just a moment and noted something on her clipboard. My gut twisted for the owner of that hand. I guess Chavez was done babying us, like she had in our first year. Still, it wasn’t like getting access to your WhiteBoard Portal was anything difficult.
“Last year, we focused on two things. The logistics of collecting Crystals, Ores, Flora, and Corpses commonly found in low-ranked Portals. And…?” she let the question hang in the air.
A student in the first row put their hand up into the air, and Chavez nodded at one of the few women in the room. “We also discussed the rarity of certain goods based on the Gifts or Skills needed to acquire them.”
“Correct,” Miss Chavez said. “Can you remind the class of what that means?”
“Sure,” the front-row student answered and then with a deep inhalation continued. “It means that certain adults Awakened with Gifts unsuited for combat.” The student emphasized ‘adults’ to further convey a point that everyone on Earth knew. Everyone eighteen or older Awakened.
She continued, after a brief pause to collect her thoughts since Chavez put her on the spot, “They like the Hunters that fight on the front lines are rare. Even rarer if they Awakened a Mana Pool and a Gathering Skill. If they have no Pool, and only a single Gift, then they too need to use Mana Banks or Batteries to perform services, which increases the rarity of goods they collect.”
I silently snorted a breath out of my nose. That wasn't the whole story. No self respecting Mana Bank had chosen to work with common Gatherers in nearly fifteen years. Once a Gatherer with a proven Skill came about, some Banks did form partnerships for the money, but that was still less common. Mostly because to date not a single Mana Bank had ever re-Awakened a second Skill working with Gatherers.
Re-Awakening was the primary reason people wanted to risk their lives and become Mana Banks. Well, that was what I assumed—because that was what I wanted.
“Can anyone tell me what we call these individuals, and what percentage of the population Awakened as Gatherers?” Miss. Chavez asked and then pointed out a new student even as they began to raise a hand.
“We call them Specialists, usually. If ten percent of humanity Awakened with a Combat Gift then another ten percent awakened with Gathering Gifts. However, it’s far more common, at nearly double the amount, for Gatherers to have also gotten a Mana Pool.”
The student almost stopped speaking then, but after scratching his chin he added, “The UNMH is still conducting research into the why of that phenomenon. This number was further skewed because of something else though…” the student faded off, clearly not remembering one of the exam answers from first year.
“Because some Awakened who feared the Monsters inside Portals chose to use Combat Skills for Gathering Skills,” Miss Chavez said. She nodded even as the student she’d called on nodded, seeming to recall that part of last year's lessons with the simple reminder. I wanted to sigh—since those numbers were heavily contested and likely inaccurate.
Well, maybe they were accurate, but the Read-it forums, which I often perused, told a less biased tale—or I guess I believed they might tell something closer to the truth. People on Read-it claimed only ten percent of the population total, Awakened with Gifts that weren’t Mana Pools—leaving ninety percent like me. People that often were referred to as Normie’s.
“The first student alluded to it, but what skews the number of Gatherers that work in Portals further, which does also help lower the rarity and cost of goods?” Miss Chavez asked and then pointed me out as I raised my hand.
“Many Mana Pool Awakened,” I began using the more acceptable term for ‘Normie’s.’ “—also enter Portals as part of Gathering Teams and Mine, Garden or Clean with regular gear or become Specialists with Enchanted Gear. Specialists can also use Mana Batteries more easily than Combat Hunters, because they have less to fear from the Batteries running out mid-combat or breaking if overused.”
“Correct!” Miss Chavez said, gracing me with her beaming smile. “You did forget about the Lumberjacks, but they rarely work with other Gatherers, so I guess that’s a pretty common mistake”
“What was the reason Hunter’s and Specialists can’t just pull Mana from the Mana Crystals?!” Someone from behind me asked their neighbor. I could tell it was meant to be a whisper, but unfortunately for them, an auditorium was meant to carry sounds, not muffle them.
Miss Chavez smiled at someone above me in the tiered seating and I turned around in my seat trying to find the culprit of the ‘whispered’ question. Surely, the idiot shouldn’t have made it to the second semester.
A group of five guys sat close together, one of them extremely red in the face. Two others gave him looks that threatened some good natured ribbing for making them the center of attention. One even gave the offending boy a Charlie Horse. Seeing that she wasn’t likely to get an answer from the young men, Miss Chavez opened the question up to the class, by saying, “Anyone?”
She didn’t bother repeating the question, since if she’d heard it, it was likely they all had. No hand shot up, and I sighed. Come on. The faster we got this over with, the faster we got out of the first late-night class. Everyone knew that first classes were just an introduction! I was about to raise my hand when another student beat me to it. The same girl in the front row who had answered Chavez’s first question.
Once indicated, the girl said, “The Mana is different than personalized Mana from within your pool. It’s theorized that there may be a way to harness it, but currently all humans can do to extract Wild Mana is burn the Crystals, and convert the intense heat to energy.”
“Good!” Miss Chavez said with a beaming smile. “What’s the difference in Crystal grades to energy output?”
Another young man, a single row in front of me, raised his hand. “It’s unknown for some of the highest ranks of Crystals, but a single B-rank Crystal is something akin to a Fusion Reactor. C-rank would be a Nuclear Reactor, I think. Then D and E rank are essentially Electric Dams of varying sizes. F-ranks are just Gas Powered Generators for a single intact Crystal.”
“With those levels of Power contained in a single Crystal, why do Guilds not always mine low rank Crystals whole?” Miss Chavez asked. This time, no one raised a hand, and so I did. She motioned at me again, giving the same appreciative look she’d given the girl in the front row. The only other person to answer multiple times so far.
“Sharding is done for time efficiency, as well as demand. Just like you don’t need Jet Fuel in a car—some engines can only handle Sharded Crystals of F-D rank. However, the more prevalent reason is the time efficiency for the Guilds. Each Guild only has so many Hunters that they can field. When Gatherers enter a Portal—those Hunters are often required to be present to protect them. So, instead of wasting too much time harvesting Full Crystals of low rank, they’d rather get what Ores and Crystal Shards they can and move on to the next Portal.”
“Excellent, once again!” Miss Chavez said. “Anything else you’d all like me to go over?”
She paused for a moment, then seeing no questions or further hands in the air, sighed and held up a piece of paper which had been one of a larger stack that was on her desk. Most students had grabbed one on their way in, and I was among them. “As you can see from the Course Outline, we’ll be moving onto the actual resources and how to recognize them this semester. We’ll start each lesson with ways to identify the items and spot fakes before we move onto quality-grading tips and tricks. Finally, we’ll discuss uses and Economic implications of availability and large purchases of said material. Understood?”
The student that had put his hand up earlier to ask about WhiteBoard access grumbled something I couldn’t hear from my spot, but thankfully Chavez was the type of teacher that didn’t like interruptions. “A bit louder for the class, Mister Hessir.”
There was a long pause before the clearly embarrassed student grumpily called out, “What’s the point of learning how to identify material if someone the System gifted an Eye Skill to can just look at them and tell?”
“Does anyone want to tell Frank here what’s wrong with that assumption?”
No hands went up, and so I eventually put mine up again, wanting desperately for the class to move along. Ms. Chavez didn’t take her amused but also scolding look off of Frank, but still indicated in my general direction.
“The existence of a System is still largely unproven, and people who Awakened with Eye Skills with the ability to Identify Items, Weapons, Enchants and Portal Materials are exceptionally rare. It’s why the UNMH Awakening Assessment is done by machines that are far from accurate.”
“Exactly Mister Flacarada,” Ms. Chavez confirmed. “If people like that were common, then there would certainly be no need for this class, but since they aren’t, and all of these wonderful people are here—I think we can assume that this Class has some value, is that not correct, Mister Hessir?”
Frank Hessir didn’t respond, and even from here I could see his head hanging down in embarrassment at his muttered complaint from the moment before. I felt slightly bad for the part I played in his scolding, but thankfully Ms. Chavez did get the class back on track, thanks to me volunteering again. “Everyone understands the curriculum for this class?”
Chavez took the late night classes’ silence as agreement and moved on. “Normally, today would just be that recap and an introduction to each other before I let you go, but I can’t think of a better beginning to our lesson than watching the news segment from last night.”
She clicked around on her desk in a professionally practiced manner before the screens behind her changed from black ‘chalkboard’ to uniform blue and then resolved into a picture. It was clearly a news segment from the UNMH, and I leaned forward in my seat. The video was labeled, “With the New Permanent Portal in Qatar: Is Hero Retirement a Pipedream?”
I looked around to see if other people were as lost as I was. Most of my news came from Swiftgram or SmileBook, which often clipped videos such as this into smaller sections, highlighting points that may or may not be contextual. Still, I didn’t think I had seen anything from this video yet. That was probably because Chavez claimed it was aired last night. Someone would have had to have been quick on the editing to have it up in under twenty-four hours, plus after ‘The Shop’s’ scare a few days ago I was kind of avoiding social media, until I figured out how my name leaked. Or if the account belonged to a highschool ‘friend.’
Well, other than responding to comments on my post from a few nights ago. Okay, and I’d also checked who got the picture of the day for the last five days.
The victor for my photoshoot had been none other than the gorgeous Eva who had been right after me in line. I wanted to hate her, but instead had sent a quick congratulatory message. Normally I would have studied the picture appreciating her curves and the way she worked them for the camera but knowing that she got the chance I coveted, it was hard to keep my internal dialogue polite and positive.
I’d tried hard before distracting myself with how many new likes and followers I’d received from my own results.
Seventy-five likes and five new followers. It wasn’t anything to brag about, but growth was growth. Chavez had been talking again, and I missed it as I ruminated on my last few days of freedom before school restarted. I should probably start hitting the gym right before this class if I wanted to pay attention till nine pm.
The news segment jingle was what snapped me out of my own daydreaming and tuned me back into the video as it started playing.
“For years Mana Crystals have been the safe investment for Heroes, but a sudden spike in Mid-Rank Crystals availability may have changed everything,” the host of the segment stated as an opening call to action. I knew it was a shock and awe tactic, but still felt my gut clench at the statement.
“Could this be the next Gold crash? Let’s go to Echo in the field for more.”
The LED lighting of the studio changed to the turquoise glow of high-grade Light Stones. Echo, a relatively well-known retired hero, was center-frame of the shot. Echo was tall with silver hair and looked to be in his thirties despite being at a bare minimum—eighty. His eyes were a vibrant green and he was clearly wearing make-up to accentuate them and his cheekbones.
A constant discordant clanking could be heard from the video and I immediately recognized the sounds of Miners doing their work.
“That’s right, Fleece. We may be looking at a drastic market shift as supply of Mid-Quality Mana Crystals flood the market. If you look behind me, you’ll notice I’m in the newest permanent Portal in Qatar. What you hear is of course, the sound of Miner’s Picks and tools. What isn’t immediately apparent from your sneak peek is that this is the fifth day of continuous Mining.”
The camera panned over dirt covered Miners as they worked. Everyone, whether they were male or female, was well muscled and sweating profusely. A few people in the class made noises that indicated disgust. I pursed my lips and lightly shook my head. Mining was considered a high paying, low-brow job that required no intelligence to perform. For some reason, this meant that Mana Pool Awakened Miners were looked down on by people who considered themselves intelligent. My thoughts on the matter were that the real smart ones were the ones doing what they needed to do to take care of their family and responsibilities.
Gary—my dad, was a Miner, and while he often came home bone weary, with just enough energy for a meal, shower and to crawl into bed, it paid extremely well. By the continued sounds of mockery, I was in the minority of people who considered Mining a respectable job…
The camera returned to Echo who was now walking through the Mining cavern. The camera had panned out to show nearly his entire body. He was wearing a silver suit that matched his hair, with a vibrant blue undershirt.
“Right now, I bet you're thinking, ‘But Echo, they can’t have mined continuously for five straight days. Everyone knows that Permanent Portals don’t reset resources.’ You’re right and until a few days ago, that was a known fact, but not only have the Draconic Kobolds that inhabit this place respawned overnight, so have the Crystal Deposits!”
“Wait!” a student near the front exclaimed. “Draconic Kobolds? Is this the Permanent B-ranked Portal?”
Chavez paused the video, giving the young girl a stern look that rebuked her for not raising a hand. Still, after only a moment to get the point across, she waggled her brows and smiled. “That’s exactly it! It turns out that fighting a Dragon truly yields amazing results!”
The class gasped in unison. I couldn’t speak for the rest of my peers, but my gasp was because I was not only terrified of the B-rank Portal having a Break but also imagining the value of such a Portal. That would be like having a money tree in your backyard. The other student had hit the nail on the head. Each B-rank Crystal was like a Fusion Reactor! I wondered if this was owned by the United Nations Monster Hunters, UNMH for short, or by the Sayyad Guild in Qatar…
This Portal was becoming more and more of a goldmine, and if it was owned by Sayyad and not the UNMH, I worried that they might not protect it well enough against Monster Breaks. I could further see the already war-ridden middle east breaking into far larger conflict over the thing!
My mind raced with the terrifying possibilities and the amazing benefits of this new Permanent Portal. Permanent Portals were already rare at less than one percent of found Portals. Likely less than point one percent, since the world had hundreds of thousands of Portals covering its surface—many of which were too far outside of Civilized areas to be explored in the twenty-four years since the Advent.
That was its own larger issue that I wouldn’t get to think about, since Ms. Chavez restarted the video.
“While this sounds great, Specialists are immensely worried. A permanent source of Crystals of this grade could create a Bear Market. This, of course, means that ‘safe’ investments into Crystals or companies that deal in Mana Technologies could go belly up, Fleece.”
The screen became a dual video as Fleece came back onto the left side. “Echo, I think what most of our viewers want to know isn't about the Bear Market—but about whether this Permanent Portal is safe?”
“Good question, and something that has been talked about a great deal in the last week, Fleece. As our loyal viewership might already know, this portal is owned by Sayyad, but the UNMH stepped in a few days ago to ensure that proper practices of creating Monster Fields around Permanent Portals would be maintained.”
Fleece nodded along and as soon as Echo finished speaking he followed up with a new clearly rehearsed question. “So, what measures is the Sayyad Guild taking, Echo?”
My mind drifted back to the PR Manager that had sat with Abbas. Surely he was working overtime lately. “The Sayyad Guild is sparing no expense, Fleece. Last time I was outside, trucks were arriving hourly with A-Ranked Portal Metals and Building Supplies. This Field is going to be the largest and strongest ever created.”
I noticed that they didn’t show the outside of the Portal to the viewer, which could mean nothing, but did make me slightly suspicious about the clearly contrived dialogue between the Anchor and the Reporter.
“That’s all the new information on the Field and Portal, Fleece. Let’s head on over to Admin and see what the Hunter Association Leader has to say on this subject.” Echo said, segwaying back into the story about the Crystals.
The screen changed from split to full screen Fleece for a transition. “Thank you, Echo. I know I’m not the only one who wishes that Portal popped up in my backyard, am I right?” Fleece said, mirroring my earlier thoughts about its immense value but adding a tone of humor to play to the audience and diffuse the tension from a moment ago.
He chuckled to himself, and the class chuckled along with him. I didn’t join them. The rank alone was terrifying, but the fact that the UNMH showed up to ensure anything meant that this portal was beyond unique. Even more so than before, I worried over the state of the countries and Guilds in the Middle East. Surely, this Portal could cause a war. So, thinking of it popping up in my backyard made me shiver.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
Fleece continued, “This next clip is from a press conference in which Admin answered concerns over this new permanent Mana Crystal supply.”
The camera shifted again, showing a press conference underway. We didn’t hear the question, but Admin was sitting at the center of a long table near the front of a full room. Behind him was a blue screen that cycled through numerous logos and companies that were clearly sponsors or partners of the UNMH.
Admin was what had been repeatedly described as a ‘grandfather on steroids’. The few ladies in the classroom made noises of appreciation, reminding me of his other nickname. GILF, or Grandfather I’d Like to Husk.
“Concerns of market crashes are premature. UNMH is carefully watching the Stock Exchange and the ZMU price point. It has risen eight points over the last week, showing an increase despite what ‘experts’ have been saying. I caution Hunters and Citizens from jumping to conclusions based on rumors surrounding Mana Crystals. A mass sale of stock will certainly lower the value of current Mana Crystal stock, but our experts here at UNMH believe that a more consistent stock of mid-grade Crystals is something the world desperately needs. This is a simple issue of supply and demand economics. As the price point lowers, access to Mana Crystals will become more available to a wider audience. This greater access will lead to a boom in innovation and quality of life across the globe as more people gain access to resources. This is not D-day, it’s Independence day—a time for celebration.”
The screen turned off and all eyes in the room turned to Chavez, who was raising a finger from the stop button on her Holodesk. “There’s more to the story, and I encourage you to watch it on your own. Still for the purposes of our discussion today, that’s about all we need. My question to you is from a Portal Material and Economic standpoint, what do you all think?”
There was a moment of hesitation as people took in her meaning. Clearly she didn’t want the discussion to get sidetracked and focused on Portals, and the danger or wealth it might represent. After the gears of the student’s brains finished turning, a few hands went up. Chavez called on a girl from earlier. The one sitting near the front of the class. “I think Admin is blowing smoke up the country's ass. The UNMH is in full damage control mode, trying to avert a panic. He practically said everything but 'fake news' up there.”
The class chuckled, and Chavez smiled before responding. “Very astute, but what’s the core of the issue?”
I raised my hand after a few moments where no one else did. Chavez indicated me with a point. People in the class turned to look at me for the third time, which made me a bit uncomfortable, but I gave my answer all the same. “The market on Portal Materials is volatile and can change drastically based on current economic factors.”
Chavez raised an eyebrow, holding up the textbook. “Thank you, Doctor Beast,” she said as she pointed to the author’s name of the book. I flushed, and she chuckled. “That is the textbook wording of the problem, but what does it mean, Mister?”
I coughed sheepishly and cleared my throat. “Flacarada,” I answered her final question with my last name and then continued, “to me it means that a new Dungeon opening can change the value of Materials. Since we can’t predict Dungeons—”
“Portals are the proper term, Mister Flacarada, and I expect you to use proper terminology in my classroom,” Chavez interjected, looking around to include all the students in that rebuke. I nodded.
“Right, sorry Portals. Since we can’t predict Portal openings, we can’t forecast expected values of the materials inside of the Portals. We can’t create the necessary logistics ahead of time for capitalizing on the newly arrived Portals, either. Add to that how many Portals are outside of human reach? Well, we basically just have to have workers on hand that can travel to any given reasonable location and establish the necessary outposts, roads, and other infrastructure. None of this accounts for the geo-political issues of Portals showing up in locations that are politically problematic. No one needs more cartel or blood-diamond equivalents. Plus, the ‘Magical Market’ and its Commerce have only been around for twenty years, so we likely haven’t even discovered everything of value.”
“Good enough!” Chavez stated. “Thank you, Brodie!” she clearly had consulted her class list to get my first name, since I hadn’t interacted with her overly much last year. “Homework—" she began and then cut off as the entire class groaned. “—or I can keep you here for the allotted class time?”
Rustling was suddenly audible as everyone including me went into bags and pulled out Tablets, Computers, Phones, or other scheduling devices. In moments Chavez had everyone’s full attention again. “I figured,” she continued with clear humor in her voice. “For the next class I want a single page assessment of a Portal Material that is commonly found and used in industry. Then I want a quick forecast of what could increase its value or decrease it. Dismissed!”
Chavez clicked a few buttons on her Holodesk and the black of the ‘chalkboards’ returned. Students started to stand, and many rushed out of the room. A small number went to introduce themselves to Chavez and I labeled them mentally in my head as the try-hards as I walked by and out into the hallway.
This was my last class today, and since it ended a whole two and a half hours early, I had some decisions to make. Knowing that this was a possibility, I hadn’t packed a dinner, and instead planned to grab something with friends on campus. I pulled out my phone and messaged Dave, my closest friend who stayed in residence:
Class is done. You still in yours?
Dave Disaster: Nah, didn’t bother. I just printed the Outline from Whiteboard. Want to come by the dorms? I’m making my famous iron Grilled Cheeze with Amazing Bread and American Singles.
His response was almost instant, and I smiled as I hurriedly typed out my own. I would love a Grilled Cheeze, who wouldn’t?
I also confirmed he was still in the same dormitory as the previous year. Turns out he was now on the third floor since the first and second were for first years. I began making my way to room three-hundred and five of the dormitory.
I took a shortcut between the Quad and Cafeteria, as I opened up SwiftGram to see if I had any more followers or likes. There weren’t many people on the path, and I assumed that was because this was more of an alley, which contained dumpsters.
Still, it was by far the fastest way to the dorms. Only if it was winter would I take the paths through the buildings. Since the snow had recently melted, the path was wet and the night air chill, but not unbearable.
Even with the climate shift after the Portals began arriving, Canada still suffered from short summers and long winters. Far milder in winter if you listened to the old folks complain and the news channels boasting, but still long. At least in comparison to other countries.
The climate shift wasn’t anything huge, in the grand scheme of the planet. Not like the Global Warming scare history said it should have been. In essence, the Advent made hot areas slightly cooler and cold areas slightly warmer. That change did melt the ice caps for example, but the fear that the land masses would flood was somehow diverted. The why of that was unclear, since according to all science it should have happened. It just didn’t.
Shaking off that first grade history lesson, I registered as a guest at the security desk and made my way up the stairs to Dave’s room. It was already propped open with the deadbolt and so I entered with a knock to at least warn him.
“If you’re rocking out with your cock out, I’m reserving the right to take pics,” I called out loudly as I pushed the door open. “I just got done doing a shoot with the best in the business. I’m basically a professional now, so you don’t need to be shy.”
Room three-o-five was an exact duplicate of Dave’s room from first year. Or at least the shared kitchen and common area with four doors off it was.
From behind one of those doors—the one that had led to a shared bathroom last year Dave shouted, “I knew you only wanted me for my body. Taking a shit, be right out.”
“Maybe slip into something a little more comfortable while you're in there,” I yawned. “Don’t make me come over here and leave with nothing.”
My only reply was an impressively loud improvised fart that I could hear from across the entire apartment.
Touché.
I rolled my eyes and made my way over to the couch. The TV was on and displaying the homescreen of a XStation Next. I debated about starting up a game of Monster Piece Z or something but grabbed the remote and changed it over to MeTube. Once there, I searched for the news segment title we’d watched in Miss Chavez’ class. Once the results returned, I moved the selector over the first entry and hit play.
The time of nearly sixty minutes on the video let me know that I’d selected the full segment and not just the piece about Mana Crystals, but I didn’t bother exiting back to the search results. I was a bit behind on current topics thanks to the photoshoot and now I was having to play a bit of catch up on current events.
Of course, as videos tend to do on MeTube, I was forced to watch an Ad. The screen showed clips of well known S-Ranked Hunters battling Monsters, and then one in particular known as Mr. America woke up in bed. The commercial cut quickly away to him coming down the stairs with his shirt still off, and moving about his kitchen. “Even heroes need help waking up in the morning. Get Vitamin SSS today, it’s what the pros trust!”
Mr. America tilted his head back and presumably took one of the Vitamins and a swig of a liquid in a coffee cup. He then looked into the camera with his ocean blue eyes and smiled. “Who knows, with Vitamin SSS you might just Awaken a power like mine!”
Corny commercials like these were the new norm, since the Advent and Marketing shifts. Thankfully, it was short or I might have thrown the remote at Mr. America. Awakening a combat Skill was already rare, but to try to sell a Vitamin with the notion of it helping Awakening an S-rank skill was beyond frustrating. The chances of S-ranked Skills awakening was a miniscule percent of a percent.
I managed to unclench my fists from around the remote, and thanks to the news segment starting, I lowered it from behind my head. Huskin’ stupid marketing if you asked me. Vitamin SSS—more like Vitamin Mana Pool, here we come. It probably wasn’t even made with Portal Materials…
“Good Evening and welcome to global News at six,” the anchor, Fleece, said. “Top News today is once again focused on New UNMH Satellites helping estimate how many Portals remain undiscovered.”
A corner of the screen showed the new Satellites that were made from Portal Materials or at least a rendition of them behind Fleece. The man continued giving a bit of context to the report. “Current UNMH estimates are even more optimistic about the Portals that seemed to have opened beneath the Oceans. Currently, less than one percent of the hundreds of thousands of Portal Signatures the satellite discovered shows living Monsters escaping. It is believed by UNMH Researchers that only a few Portal Monsters are suited for life under the Sea.”
“And yet, as more and more Portal Signatures light up the specialized cameras on the Satellites, Scientists finally have to admit that there is far more of our World that humans never conquered than we’d like to have believed. Now with the estimate of nearly two hundred thousand unreachable and undiscovered Portals, the UNMH must concede that we, as a species, can only lay claim to about one-third of the planet.”
I listened to Fleece with half an ear. This wasn’t truly news since the estimates on Portals were constantly shifting. As were the theories as to why the unreachable Portals that were in the ocean weren’t overwhelming us with Monsters already. It was a long held theory that most Monsters drowned during breaks, or were crushed by the Water Pressure.
The next few pieces were kept somewhat local—meaning the Greater Toronto Area, which Windsor was only tremulously considered a part of. Each segment spoke about the graduating classes of highschool students. Or, the kids who’d just turned eighteen! Each piece focused on those adults that had the highest potential to move on to Hunter Academies. The fact that high potentials were anyone from D-ranked awakened up to a single A-ranked, showed the truth of my earlier thoughts on Mr. America’s commercial.
The Greater Toronto Area was home to nearly ten million people, and not a single eighteen-year-old Awakened with an S-rank skill. In truth, news like this was very common and seemed somewhat boring by comparison to the first undiscovered Portal estimates Fleece made and the small clip of a permanent Portal in class. I continued to listen with half an ear, while simultaneously going through Chavez’ course syllabus on my phone's Whiteboard App. It was probably about fifteen minutes before I heard the toilet flush and not even five seconds after that Dave exited the bathroom in his boxers—not even having pretended to turn on the tap to wash his hands.
“Sup Bro-deez,” Dave said by way of greeting. “Whatcha watching?”
“Local news,” I answered. “We’ve already got homework from Chavez.”
“Husk dude, that blows. Well not the Chavez part—I’d let her husk me, if you know what I mean. Literally break my Mana Pool if I got to be that close to her.” I must have made a face because he gave me a raised eyebrow look. “What? She not looking as good as last year?”
“She’s as bubbly as ever…”
“And as perky?” Dave asked, his emphasis followed by waggling his eyebrows suggestively. I rolled my eyes before shrugging noncommittally. He took that as an affirmative. “Dude, you know you wouldn’t say no to some after school ‘tutoring’! I wish I had her for my electives!”
“Good thing it’s required for my course, because from the queue to get into the class I needed that priority registering thanks to people who share your way of thinking.”
“See, total smoke show, the mob agrees with me, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my long years on this earth, it’s that when shit goes down you always want to be on the side of the mob.” Dave had only let his butt touch the other couch cushion for a second before he hopped back to his feet. “Right Grilled Cheezies!” he said excitedly.
“Wash your hands,” I said pointedly, and then chuckled when I saw his cheeks flush slightly red. He made his way to the sink and used the dish soap there to lather up.
“I just moved in, and don’t even have a roommate yet, so like I don’t got no soap in the bathroom yet, k?” he said as an excuse. I just let him have that one and instead focused on the other side of his comment.
“No roommate? You think you’ll have this whole place to yourself then?” I asked, feeling pretty jealous of the dude’s family wealth, and by extension, his freedom.
“Nah, I’m guessing that there’ll be some shifting going on after the first week. Remember last year when Wayne Bruce moved out of my room because he didn’t like how many people I had over?”
“Oh right. Whatever happened to Man Bat?” I asked, recalling the nickname we had for the rather prudish individual.
“He dropped out, I think?” Dave said as he got out the bread, cheese, and iron to start making us food.
“—let’s go to reporter Skulk in the field to find out more about this grizzly murder.” The TV cut off Daves and my conversation. Well, it didn’t exactly cut us off, but the mention of murder had us both turning to the screen with interest.
“If you’ve been following along, this marks the fifth murder attributed to the same killer here in New York. The police have yet to release the information on the victim but have confirmed that the M.O. of the killer fits with several other bodies found in similar conditions.” Skulk wore a black suit and even had a black half-mask covering his face all the way up to the bridge of his nose. He likely wouldn’t have made a great reporter if it wasn’t for his soft menacing voice. It sounded like a whisper from a dark figure right behind you, and just fit with this kind of horror story.
“This man found in an alleyway is the fifth in a string of murders that span back over the last few months. Police warn citizens in the area to stay inside after dark, whenever possible, and urge anyone who might have information on the perpetrator or victims of the previous crimes to come forward.
“This suspect has a particularly grizzly and chilling calling card, leaving his victims Husked or Skill less, physically beaten and heartless without a single incision on the body. Police believe that the individual is using a Skill and powering it with the victims Mana Pool’s since each one was a relatively high leveled single-gift Awakened.”
“That’s code for common Mana Pool gifts in the mid C ranks,” Dave commented, adding context that I already parsed together. I just nodded and kept listening intently.
“There are some similar cases in other states that make local authorities worry that this killer may be on the move. The trail stretches south through Pennsylvania, Virginia, and North Carolina, making authorities worry that he may have already exited New York. They also warn that his timeline is progressively speeding up, and urge all citizens in the area to be vigilant and aware, but also want to reassure citizens that their special Hunter task-force is on the case.”
“Good thing that’s happening so far from us,” Dave chimed in as the news segment ended with a wide-view shot of a dark alleyway between two buildings that could have been anywhere in the world. Dave’s eerily timed comment paired with such a shot made me shiver.
Sure, the events on the news happened in New York which was nearly the entire province of Ontario and country line away, but that shot of the alley could have been the same one I walked through to get here. Or close enough. I looked to Dave who was now busily making grilled cheese, and said, “You don’t think he could keep coming north, then?”
“What? You think a murderer’s going to chance crossing a border?” Dave asked distractedly.
I nodded and felt the goosebumps my internal thoughts raised stop prickling. Dave was right, and I was just probably thinking too hard on it. Probably because of how creepy Skulks’ voice made the news sound like the killer would be right behind me as soon as I walked outside.
The news continued speaking of more world events. I only got a chance to listen with half an ear because Dave said, “Still, I can’t believe you want to risk your Skill man. Getting husked is a real possibility, even with a good partner.”
“I know that, man, but like if you don’t take the risk—how the hell are you ever going to become a Hunter?” I retorted playfully. This was a common argument between us. Mostly because Dave did want to become a Hunter but was too scared to take the risk I was. Those first uses of Mana Pools just ended in Skill breakage or damage far too often.
Dave stopped making the grilled cheese, and took a deep breath, which let me know that this time he wanted a more serious conversation on the subject. “Brodie, I know you’re determined to become a Bank, but do you remember the day you turned eighteen?”
Of course I did. The moment a light illuminated from within my chest, and I suddenly felt it. I closed my eyes remembering that moment, remembering the euphoria of receiving a Skill. “Yeah, it’s cliché but how can anyone forget the moment they can finally see.”
“That’s what I mean, Bro. I know that it’s now just something we all intrinsically understand, and are used to—that connection to something more. I just—” Dave floundered for a moment, clearly lost for words. With a sigh he spoke plainly. “Why risk losing that? To use your own analogy—why go up to a guy with a laser, and minimal training to improve your eyesight, when he might make you blind?”
It wasn’t Dave’s finest metaphor, but I did understand it. This was a conversation I’d had many times with my parents. It was why they had ‘untouched’ Mana Pools. It was why most of the world did. How could you risk losing that connection? How could you return to being a ‘true’ Normie again.
Smiling sadly I shrugged at Dave. Softly I asked, “Do you know of another way to re-Awaken?”
Dave went silent after that, and I turned back in to the MeTube news video. After a bit more talk from the anchor, on the last video–about Wildlife Evolutions, the familiar start to the segment I watched in Chavez’s class sounded out and I truly tuned fully back into the TV while pulling out my tablet to make a few notes.
Dave joined me about midway through the piece, and handed over a plate with a sandwich and a healthy glob of ketchup. I could tell by his sheepish smile he was somewhat apologizing for his earlier question.
“Man, this Portal is husking crazy, right?” Dave said quickly when he saw an opportunity to fully change the subject. He used his bitten grilled cheese to indicate the screen. “Can you imagine how much the Sayyad Guild will make owning that thing?”
“I’m more worried about whether a Monster Field can even contain it!” I interjected, thankful for the return to our normal banter. I paused the video.
“Good point, but the UNMH being onsite means they’ll take it away if Sayyad doesn’t meet the criteria.”
“Sure, but like didn’t Abbas say they fought a husking Dragon, dude?”
Dave shivered, and shook his head. “It could have been an anomaly or something. The UNMH rarely gets a reading that wrong, right?”
“No clue, I’ve never been in a Portal before.”
“Me either,” Dave said around a bite of his grilled cheese.
Other than his continued interruptions to voice his desire for a Portal like the one in Qatar to pop up in his parent’s estate, he watched along quietly with me. The rest of the piece I hadn’t seen yet, spoke to two ‘experts’ in economics, who both claimed that this could be the start of the end—or similar apocalyptic statements.
I noted their names when the segment ended, so I could look them up later and then paused the remainder of the video to give my sandwich my full attention. Soon Dave and I were playing Monster Piece Z, an online MMORPG where you could join parties and quest as a powerful Hunter. Its setting was present day Earth and allowed Mana Pool Awakened like us to fictitiously live out our dreams.
Before I knew it my watch read nine pm and I groaned. “My parents will be expecting me to be getting on a bus. I gotta get going!”
“Dude, why don’t you just crash here tonight?” Dave said and pointed to the right-most of the three doors that used to lead to bedrooms in his old room. I assumed they still did here.
“Husk, if I’d known I would have packed a change of clothes and a toothbrush,” I answered, truly meaning the words. “Tomorrow?”
“As long as no one moves in. Or you know, if a girl wants the old Dave Disaster special.”
“Yeah, how many girls did you have over last year so you could ‘give ‘er the D’?” I asked pointedly.
“Too many to count, Bro.”
“So, none?”
“Well, Rebecca came for dinner that one time,” Dave countered.
“So, still none staying the night?” Dave’s red face was answer enough, and I chuckled as I patted his shoulder. “It ain’t like I’m any better,” I added to assuage his hurt ego.
“Yeah, but you live at home and the girls are still all over you,” Dave said sulkily.
“No, they aren’t!”
“Man, now I know you’re delusional. Get out of my room before I punch you.”
I laughed good-naturedly even though I still disagreed with my friend’s assessment. Then I made my exit giving him a bro hug, which was slightly uncomfortable since he was still bare chested and in his boxers.
“Send me a text with your schedule,” I said as I opened the door. “I’ll check if we have any classes together on my limo ride home.”
“Yeah, enjoy your extra-wide, extra-tall, earthquake-simulating stretch limo, bro!” Dave scoffed, even as I heard him resume playing Monster Piece Z.
I made my way back downstairs and then thanks in large part to the news segment and Skulk’s creepy voice, decided to take the long way through the buildings toward the bus stop. It only added maybe five minutes and before I knew it, I was looking across the street toward the under-tunnel of the bus stop. I was just making my way across the campus crosswalk when a shadow separated itself from a nearby wall. I spun to face the man who was wearing a far too thick black jacket for this time of year.
Eyes trained on the man, I spun again, head now canted over a shoulder and increased my pace. I made it another two steps before the guy pulled a terrifyingly familiar-shaped object from a holster or pocket near his waist. He kept the object close to his side, but its outline was still clear.
“Brodie Flacarada, we told you we’d be seeing you,” he said as he adjusted the pistol at his side, pointing it in my direction.
I froze. The matte steel of the gun had little to reflect against the backdrop of the dark-garbed man. My breath hitched in my throat, my heart hammered in reply as my eyes dilated at the sight of the muzzle tucked in close to this black jacket trained on me. The gaping opening of the barrel put all of the surrounding darkness to shame. It was the blackness of death. I wanted to run, but my legs felt numb. I might have managed to escape if I hadn't been looking over my shoulder and seen the weapon. Maybe, even if given a few more seconds, I would have built up the courage to try and sprint away, but soon enough the man reached me and drew in close, pressing the gun discreetly into my side.
It was only then that the man’s words caught up to me. He said my name. My real, full name. Terror crept into the edges of my vision.
My fear morphed when the sensation of the hard metal pistol dug into my abdomen just below my ribs. The man didn’t even bother speaking again as he draped an arm around my back and latched onto my other arm’s bicep effectively trapping my right arm between his body and mine and my left with his grip. He then steered me away from the bus stop’s tunnel and back across the street. My brain attempted to find a means of escape, but the painful sensation of steel under my ribs continuously reminded me I was a finger twitch away from being bullet ridden.
As if the man sped up or time skipped throughout the campus, soon enough the very alley I cut through earlier today came into view. We were heading directly toward it.
My usually active thoughts were nothing but loud static.