Markus Pontis sat in class, sweat running down his temple. Something wasn’t right.
The only thing he was studying was the clock ticking at a snail’s pace toward the end of the lesson. He would have to tap out and go to the nurse.
He glanced at the teacher. The woman had noticed something was going on with him, but she didn’t like him, and Markus knew she would never send him to the nurse's office if she could get away with it. Typically, this obvious bias rolled off his back, but today he felt very differently. Keeping it together for two more minutes was an arduous task when his entire body ached.
Once the bell rang, he turned to his teammate. “I am going to the nurse. I won’t be joining training today or any other lessons. Pass that on, will you? I don’t feel so hot.”
“Sure thing, Markus. You need help getting to the nurse?”
He patted his teammate on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. I think I’ll be fine on my own.”
Markus left the class with everybody else. He began descending the stairs by splitting off from his fellow students.
His head felt like it was about to split open. Groaning, he staggered to the wall. Something was wrong, seriously wrong.
Suddenly the floor rushed toward Markus then the world went dark.
Thonk!
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Kane Lordan stood in an alleyway. The nervous energy he exuded would have made any onlooker suspicious. He was putting down orange cones and some construction warnings around a manhole. Hardhat, orange vest, and his attire were that of a proper worker. Before finding a factory job, he had worked in this line of work, so he knew how to look and what to do. It easily came to him since he still had the old working pants and toolbelt. His plan was simple, and if everything worked as he had practiced, nobody would notice for one or two days, maybe longer, if he did things right.
But practicing was one thing; committing the crime at midday was different. He opened the manhole with routine, his muscle memory doing the work for him. Kane looked down the dark hole, turning on his hat-mounted flashlight.
He chose lunchtime because the bankers wouldn’t be inside the vault while everybody ate. The lunch lull, his old drinking buddy worked as a teller in a local bank called it. He had precisely two duffle bags and had given himself roughly fifteen minutes to fill them.
The sewers were a broad system and gave him ample space not to get his feet wet. Knowing the sewers and where the vault was placed had been a minor detail in his former job. Where are the buildings and the cellars? Where was the subway? With his new ability, he could finally use that knowledge.
These last few days, his only thought was changing his entire life. Never again would he have to work for someone else. From this moment on, he would be his own man. He’d be the man. That was precisely why he chose to debut during the daytime and not in the middle of the night.
Kane took a deep unpleasant breath facing the sewer wall. He placed some tarp on the floor beside the wall and removed the worker’s clothes. The plain black clothes beneath he topped off by a mask and gloves.
He threw the duffle bags over his shoulder and walked forward, focussing on his way through the wall. Kane entered the cash vault of Pliad’s central banking institution. A grin worked its way onto his face. The feeling of being young, reckless, and successful returned to him. His heart pumped no longer from the nervousness but from the excitement.
It was time for him to take what he desired.
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Ravela drove down the road to Core Valley, pondering the entire situation. The things she learned today were swirling in her head. The wrapper of the matches didn’t seem the least bit interested in leaving her thoughts.
She felt isolated. These details that were self-evident to others were entirely foreign to her. Ravela didn’t know what matches were before they mentioned the wrapper. She had been too embarrassed to ask any of her fellow recruits, and the day continued on an equally embarrassing trajectory.
Finally, the wall around her property appeared. Ravela pulled into the front gate, which she opened with her telekinesis. She would think of something nice and handy that would open the gate without her powers, but not today.
She came to a complete stop just past the gate. There was a car parked in front of her house. Ravela slowly approached, parked, and got out of her vehicle.
“If it isn’t the Wanderer. Long time no see.” A known voice called out from a chair on the porch of her house.
“And what is a keeper doing lounging in my chair instead of tending to his community?” Ravela responded, relaxing a great deal. “I didn’t know you had such a fancy car, Keeper Namon.”
Keeper Namon looked at his car. “She is a beauty, isn’t she?”
Ravela looked at the small black car. It looked elegant, the black car paint polished to the point that she could see the reflection of her house in it. She saw herself there as well, reflected in this black mirror. “She?”
“But of course, just look at her. She is a noble machine.” Keeper Namon said, almost sounding confused by her inquiry.
She smiled and felt weights peel off her body by talking to a friend. “And how did you know I could use the caring ear of a friend today?”
Keeper Namon turned in his chair toward her with a warm and relaxed smile. “What makes you think I knew? I just came here to give you an update on things in Gradjia. Can’t a friend be there at the right time without knowing you need them?”
There was something disarming about his way of thinking. “I guess they can. I am glad to see you.”
“Oh, yes, because you missed me so dearly, right?” He changed his tune to almost sound teasing.
Ravela folded her arms in front of herself. “Are you going to follow that up with, ‘You never call, you never write.’ next? Don’t guilt trip me; I’ve been a busy bee.”
Her friend got off his chair as she approached. “It is good to see you, Ravela.”
She smiled. “Come, let’s go inside. I got work to do. We can talk while I get it done.” Turning the key and cracking the door open a bit, Ravela stopped, and half turned back. “You know your way around tools, right? Or will you just sit in and watch me work?”
Keeper Namon laughed his signature rumbling laugh. “I helped to fix homes before, you know. I’ve been wondering how you were doing here without my help.”
Ravela entered the house with her confidante behind her. “Please, by all means, feel right at home in this house void of all amenities. We don’t have cold drinks, we don’t have a coach, but what we really don’t have is a functioning bathroom.”
Namon stood in the door frame, making a face as though he couldn’t believe what he just heard. “Okay, I understand that you got rid of the outhouse, but the kitchen too?”
Ravela made a throwaway gesture. “It wasn’t up to my code.”
“Oh, I see, not having anything but walls is certainly a bold choice.” Keeper Namon nodded his complete understanding, barely keeping his face serious.
Ravela laughed. “I just plan sweeping improvements, and for my vision to become real, I had to tear out the old stuff.”
“Come, I’ll show you around and share my plans with you,” She said while moving further into the house. “At least a little bit.”
“You know it is not good form to keep things from your friends, right?” Namon said while following her inside.
“Is that so? Well then, what’s your first name?” Ravela asked with a grin.
“You ask as though I kept it a secret.” The man said.
“You answered that like you’re trying not to tell me,” Ravela responded.
“I really did, didn’t I?” He mused while he followed her to the future mast bedroom.
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Ravela grinned at the door. “You’re impossible, Namon. Or maybe people called you keeper for so long that you forgot your first name.”
“My first name is Maurice.”
Ravela nodded, keeping a neutral expression. It was so opposite to her expectation. This big man had such a timid-sounding name.
“I see; thanks for sharing. Now, behold my future master bedroom. With an adjacent walk-in closet and bathroom.” Ravela spread out her arms at the construction site. “Do be careful. There is still a gaping hole in the walk-in closet. I will put a hidden trap door to the cellar in there. It will vanish right under the carpet. It’s going to be great when it's done. Waiting for an order of bathroom tiles for the bathroom currently.”
“Why would you need a trap door to your cellar in your closet?” Namon asked, startled.
Ravela looked at him, not understanding the question. “Why wouldn’t I need that?”
They looked at each other for a moment in confused contemplation. Then Ravela decided to move on. “Anyway, nothing much to see here yet. Let me show you the rest of the house, as I want it to be when I am done.”
Ravela gave him a tour of the former kitchen with the stairs down to the cellar talking briefly about the improvements she wanted to make to the house.
“And upstairs, I’ll make a nice office and a reading room with a bunch of books and two more bedrooms just cause you can’t ever have enough beds.” Ravela ended her tour back and the front door. “Now, I will get my tools. There is much work to be done, and I still need to start the generator before the sun goes down.”
Ravela walked out and over to the barn. “So, how are things back home?”
“I came here because something happened that you should know about.” Keeper Namon finally said he came here with a purpose besides checking up on her.
“And here I thought this was a visit entirely made for friendship,” Ravela said while picking up a toolbox and materials and putting them on the cart with the generator. “Go on then. What happened in Gradjia?”
“There was an incident in the sheriff's office.” Her friend informed her slowly.
Ravela stayed busy while he talked. “I hope everybody is alright. Why bring this up, though?”
“They stole a bunch of files by pretending to be federal officers,” Namon said, sounding hesitant. “They were about the explosion on the football field.”
She stopped dead in her tracks mid-picking up the toolbox. Her mind began working. “Someone stole the files. It certainly isn’t to exonerate the culprit. They must be searching for something else…” Ravela openly shared her thoughts but trailed off by the end, her memory flashing her a big placard she passed just the other day. “No, someone else.”
Namon nodded in agreement. “That’s what I thought too. You should know that somebody is looking at this tragedy differently than the rest of the world. They’ve taken a risk in obtaining these files.” He stated, getting closer to Ravela. “Do you know why they’re looking for you?”
There was an awkwardly long pause while Ravela kept carrying the supplies into the house.
Keeper Namon was a patient man. He helped her in silence, waiting for her response. She appreciated him, which made lying about her nature more painful.
“When I awoke, there was someone there. A person who saw my true form.” Ravela hesitated before she went further. “They saw me in my armor. I think they’re still looking for me.”
Keeper Namon took a moment to put the information into context, and Ravela was uncertain how he would understand this vague information. He put a hand on his chin, humming. Meanwhile, the guilt of continuously misleading someone she considered a friend was gnawing away at her.
“So, who are they?” He eventually asked.
“I know their name. I knew they were in the region, but I don’t think they are dangerous to me.” Ravela avoided answering the question.
Her friend crossed his arms in front of himself. “Ravela, I won’t seek them out. I am asking, so you can take a bit of weight off your shoulders. Frankly, you look a bit exhausted, and I can’t help but feel like you're being aware of things while I am in the dark about them is the reason for that. Anything you say to me, even outside of the Safe House, is still under the seal of the confession, as far as I am concerned, so confide in me, will you?”
Ravela inwardly squirmed. She had maneuvered herself into a corner and now kept lying to a friend. “Her name is Himiko Ito, and she was present when I awoke. She is naturally curious, and after seeing me, her obsession with finding me is understandable.”
Keeper Namon thought about it while Ravela started working on her master bedroom. She openly used her telekinesis to work more effectively. Tools flew around, as did nails, saws, and floorboards. While she told Namon not to worry, her mind raced with curses and questions.
Namon had retreated to the doorway. The look on his face was one of concern. “You mentioned your armor. May I see it?”
Ravela gave the request some thought. She had some nails tucked between her lips. The idea of why she had them like this instead of floating them beside her distracted her momentarily, leading to the tools and materials wobbling mid-flight during her laps in concentration. She refocused on her current task and Namon’s request. The nails flew out of her mouth and were driven into the new floor support by her telekinetic powers. “I don’t see why I couldn’t show you my armor, but you may be disappointed it doesn’t exactly have the divine shine and is quite well-worn. Don’t expect to be awed.”
Namon smiled slightly at that. “Let’s see it then.”
Ravela paused her work for a moment. “I thought you were a patient man. You see, I’ve got a lot of work to do here, and like I predicted, you aren’t helping.”
“What, you want me to step into the room where you fly wooden boards the length of my arms, saws, and nails around without looking at them most of the time? No, thank you, Ravela. That is not safe for me.”
She had continued working and stopped again, realizing she was at fault this time. Ravela hadn’t used her telekinesis to this extent when working with the girls. “Apologies, I…I just did it without thinking. It is hard not to use your abilities all day, every day. Imagine having one arm tied behind your back all the time. This feels like stretching freely. I hadn’t considered your situation there for a moment. You, knowing my true self and abilities, made me too comfortable. I am…sorry.”
There was a moment of silence before Ravela continued to work again. She was considering how much she should show Namon. The urge to be as honest with him as possible to repay his trust and friendship at least somewhat was strong, but she couldn’t just show him everything. ‘At least pistol was off-limit for now…unless’
Scenarios ran through her mind on how Namon would react to certain information. He already knew of one ring. Maybe she would show him Michael’s ring too. Namon was a patient man and had left her to mull things over. She passed him in the chair outside her front door on her tours to and from the barn. Ravela truly appreciated his hands-off approach to letting her come to a decision. Trust was something you couldn’t talk to people it was something they had to find toward you on their own. The more independently they came to give their trust, the more it meant to the trusted. At least, that is what Ravela assumed to be his philosophy.
Ravela put down her tools as the sun sent her last warm ray over the horizon. While she was thinking things over, hours had come and gone. She walked out the front door and took a deep breath.
“Alright then, follow me to the barn.” She invited Namon to come along.
The man got up from the chair without any haste. There were no apparent signs that he was happy with her choice to trust him, but Ravela could still tell he felt that way.
Stopping herself outside the barn, Ravela looked down on herself. These clothes wouldn’t fit in her snug armor suit. “Wait outside while I change. I will call you in when I am ready.”
Ravela stepped into the middle of the barn. She lifted her arms and gently hovered the suitcase with her belongings out of the barn’s roof beams.
Nobody would think to look up there. It was the best solution until her home was good and ready. A safe place built by her two hands would be ideal for hiding from the world. Her mind wandered a bit while she unpacked the suitcase.
Ravela displayed the ring boxes on the construction materials except for the non-human rings. Michael’s ring went from her pocket to the other rings and was joined by Ramiels ring. Next to it, she put the flasks. She removed the one flask that was her cure-all ace up her sleeve and hid it with the two rings she didn’t want to show Namon.
She put the flask back in the box…it was obviously missing, and it would raise questions about how truthful she was with her friend. She bit her lower lip, hesitating and considered putting the non-human rings back too.
Putting the two boxes back with the other, she left them closed. At the same time, the others were open, which would have to be good enough for her friend. The sword and the golden laurels went unceremoniously onto a pile of unfinished floorboards. She pulled out the revolver she had left in the suitcase and put it with the sword and laurel.
Stepping away from the displayed treasures, Ravela removed all her clothes and put on the undergarment she had always worn in her battlesuit. The texture outside felt almost rubbery, with its triangular pattern that could barely be seen, while the inside was soft and smooth.
Ravela slowly hovered her battlesuit over and put it on. It had been one year since she had last worn her armor. When the helmet interlocked with the neckpiece of the suit, she felt her hair being compressed. It tickled her ears a bit. Lastly, she put on the gloves. They sealed up just as perfectly as they had ever done.
She turned her palms up and slowly contracted every finger until she had formed two fists. Then released the fingers stretching and retracting them in waves, testing the response from her suit.
Calling out to her friend outside, she prepared for any reaction.
Namon came in through an only slightly cracked open barn door. The construction lights were illuminating the spot where she stood.
Her voice sounded even more otherworldly when she was inside her armor, Ravela noticed as she greeted the keeper. “And now you see a bit more of who I am. Since I can trust in your seal of the confession, I wish to show you all there is to see and tell you what I’ve been doing in Pliada City since I joined the police academy.”
Ravela pointed toward the displayed items. Namon didn’t even glance over to the stuff on display. He had eyes only for her in her armor suit. Slowly approaching her, he asked, “That is your armor? There is damage on the plating…and it looks burned and coarse.”
She looked at the plating on her forearms. The upped layers looked like they melted slightly before cooling off again. Paired with the teeth marks here and there, she looked nothing like a proud warrior, more like a scarred survivor. “It looks like it’s been through hell, right?” Ravela said, self-conscious. ‘Because that’s where I’ve been. Without this armor, I wouldn’t have made it here. In my book, this armor was as close to divine intervention as I’d ever been.’ “Not much of an angelic look, is it? No immaculate perfection on this thing.”
“That looks like you’ve been through a lot.” Keeper Namon said after swallowing once.
Ravela looked down at her palm repeating her mind wandering backward in time, reliving her journey until she escaped inside a tomb. “Through a lot…yes, that is true.” Under her helmet, Ravela's expression had become raptured as she began drawing power from the crystal of her necklace, unconsciously seeking the safety of its power.
She heard the keeper clear his throat. The foggy state of mind fell off her when Namon addressed her again.
“And what are those?” Namon awkwardly changed the topic.
“Hm?” Ravela shook her head, snapping back to reality. She felt the power current flowing and stopped drawing energy from the crystal. “What? Uhm, yeah, these are my belongings, if you will. As you can see, there is more than one ring.”
She never felt hot inside her bodysuit before, but now she felt like her body was radiating heat. Ravela was flustered. She hadn’t realized how fast she had pulled in energy.
“Then each of these rings turns you into a different person?” Namon continued their conversation.
“Yes, and recently I’ve been active in Pliada City during the night catching criminals.” She told him as she walked over.
Namon abruptly turned back to her and inquired in a shocked tone. “You are the one killing those Swaddy gangsters in the city!?”
Ravela stumbled a half step at the accusation. “What? No, that is a different guy. You think I’d just go around murdering people like that?!”
Namon breathed a sigh of relief while Ravela felt like she was getting cooked inside her armor.
“You had me worried there for a moment,” Namon said.
“I may have broken some legs and cracked some ribs recently, even made it into the papers twice on the same day, actually. Once as Ramiel, the other time as the handsome vigilante you see on the front page of the Tribute.”
He made a face like she had done something wrong. Ravela didn’t quite get why he was so upset with her. Catching criminals was a good thing, after all, wasn’t it?
“ So instead of fully concentrating on the police academy, building your home, or training those you gave powers, you went out for roughhousing?”
“You know, when you say it like that, it sounds less reasonable than it really was,” Ravela claimed, knowing her friend had her dead to rites.
Keeper Namon wagged a finger at her. “That sounds even more halfhearted a rebuttal than a junior high schooler getting caught peeping on the senior girl’s locker room, claiming he mistook it for the boy's locker room.”
Ravela wanted to move on from the topic. “Fine, I should focus on more important things, but the guy running rampant in Pliada is dangerous and powerful. It is only a question of time before he starts hunting people down mid-civilian crowds during daylight.”
“But fair enough, I shouldn’t go astray from my main purpose.” She admitted. “Anyway, then we have those wonderful flasks, most endless in supply, and over there, we have golden laurels, my sword, and one of the revolvers I used as Michael Manus,” Ravela paused and considered adding more to her explanation. “I look quite dashing in the laurels. They suit me, honestly. I’ve thought of shaving my head to wear them again occasionally.”
Namon picked the laurels up. “Those are gold, huh?”
“I can’t be all heavy-plated steel. A girl needs to have a few fancy things, I feel. In fact,” Ravela said while unlocking her helmet. “Give them here and tell me I’m pretty.”
Namon turned back to her as she took off her helmet.
His baffled face got bathed in golden light.