“Young Seishin! You want to sleep, do it on your own time!”

Hitori shot from his desk. Standing in front of him was a short Seitojin woman, his teacher. The other students were laughing, but she silenced them with a glance.

“Yes, Ms. Athens!” Hitori bowed. “I have no excuse. It will never happen again.”

“Some promise,” Ms. Athens said. A few of his peers chuckled. “Last class before you graduate and you finally plan to stay awake.”

Hitori blushed. He hadn’t meant that as a joke. He wasn’t being truthful either, but rather forgot he was graduating this year. Assuming he passed the exams.

Ms. Athens sighed and walked to the front of the room as Hitori returned to his seat. This wasn’t the first time he’d dozed off in this class, though he’d never been so pleased to snap out of it. His daydream took a turn for the macabre. Even the intimidating glower of his teacher was an improvement.

Li Athens was the youngest instructor in the Nova Academy. She was only a year older than Hitori, who just turned eighteen, but graduated five years ago. She was rather short in comparison, with the stereotypical narrow eyelids and brown eyes of a Seitojin, unlike Hitori’s deep blue. Her skin was a shade darker than his, more beige than olive, and her hair was black. They were both very muscular, although the teacher was leaner.

On her face was the silver marking of a Nova mercenary, something Hitori currently lacked. She also had a black tattoo somewhat akin to a snake slithering up her neck and ending on the opposite cheek.

“Not like it matters anyway,” Hitori muttered under his breath. This was a first-century history course, taken at the academy’s insistence.

“What, you think you’re headed to Nova East so you can act like a potato?” his teacher said. That branch was considered the lowest posting in Nova. It was on the Eastern continent, a place with only a scattering of isolated villages. His assignment wouldn’t be decided until after graduation, but the worst performing students ended up there.

“No, it’s just I…” Hitori looped his hand as though reeling in an answer. “I’m already so familiar with this stuff, you know? I’ve got a real passion for history.”

He got a few chuckles from his peers. Even Hitori didn’t think he sounded credible.

“Is that so? Perhaps you’d like to give us a summary of, oh, let’s say the events leading up to and shortly after the Fading?”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“The Fading? Sure, easy, no problem,” Hitori wracked his brain trying to remember the cheat sheet a friend made for the last test. “There was a war, between Seitoji and Duroterra, and Seitoji was winning. So Duroterra, uh, used biological warfare to win?”

Ms. Athens glanced at another boy in class, Hitori’s friend Protius, and frowned. He shrugged innocently. She looked back to Hitori and sighed. “I’m not sure where to begin with you. Does someone else want to try?”

There was laughter as several students raised their hands. The first up belonged to Bridget Ó’Hea, as usual. She was the picture of Mairtalan beauty: fair skin, sparse freckles, and large blue eyes. Her hair was light-red and spun together in a braid that stretched past her waist. Unlike the other students, she had a sincere and earnest expression. The teacher motioned for her to answer.

“The war was between the Wahuang Republic and the Minerva Imperium, two nations that later coalesced into the city-states of Seitoji and Duroterra. The Republic gained the upper hand with a material known today as myriaite.

“To regain the advantage the Imperium weaponized medical nanotechnology under development by Dr. Vitani and Dr. Magnus. It’s unknown exactly what happened, but it is believed Dr. Vitani had a problem with the project leadership and released the technology, after adding a self-replication feature.”

“You can stop there, Miss Ó’Hea,” Ms. Athens said. Bridget frowned but nodded politely. “Does someone think they can finish?”

Again several students raised their hands, and the teacher selected one from the back row, a young woman. She looked distinctly Duroterran: olive skin, brown hair, and a wide face with a strong chin. She was well built, probably the most muscular person in class.

It was unusual for mercenaries to be into body-building, so her physique stood out amongst the other students. Her presence was something of a mystery, having transferred in halfway through the year. She hadn’t made any friends or joined a team yet, so no one knew where she transferred from.

“That nanotechnology, called a restructor and responsible for a person’s Vital Net, worked correctly as far as healing was concerned, but the power system had unintended consequences. They use malhahons—a kind of exotic matter—for energy and structure, but can’t produce it themselves. Instead, they convert a portion of the host’s brain for that purpose. Unfortunately, in around ninety-five percent of the population that change eventually caused the Fade, or more technically Malhahonic Dementia.

“It leads to insanity, but not before giving the victim an intuitive ability to create malhahonic constructs. These people became the first Arteficers, able to craft crude but powerful artes that could obliterate whole neighborhoods. Obviously, extreme power mixed poorly with absolute madness.”

“Thank you, Miss Peri,” Ms. Athens said. “And you too, Miss Ó’Hea. I’m glad to see some of our students taking Esper’s history seriously. We don’t want you embarrassing yourself when working with cultured clientele. Some of your classmates could learn from you.”

A few people laughed as a gentle three ring tone sounded. The students began chattering as they retrieved their weapons and books. “Hitori, I need to speak with you before you go,” the teacher called out over the clatter.