Hadwyn opened his eyes.

He was in a bed, just like the one he ended up in after his fight with Dale.

“Welcome back.” Peter’s voice spoke.

His vision cleared up. Yup, it was the same room.

“You recovered faster than I expected.”

“What?”

Then Teresa cleared her throat.

Hadwyn looked at her.

She slapped him across the face, then she stormed out of the room. Hadwyn fell asleep again shortly thereafter, but not before noticing he was hooked up to some sort of sedative.

When Hadwyn woke up a second time, he noticed the bag was gone.

Peter approached him. He had a concerned look on his face.

“D-did it work?”

Peter looked uncomfortable.

“How long was I out?”

He didn’t make eye contact with Hadwyn. This time something was different.

“You… you were out for a couple of days. But we didn’t expect you to make any recovery, let alone a full one. You should be dead, Hadwyn.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Yes, Hadwyn. Yesterday, I planned to teach you if you recovered… But recently, I am being forced to graduate everyone now.”

“W-why?”

“Because… Well, Dale killed himself.”

“What?”

“I’ve finally been given the authorization to tell you what is really happening.”

He stared deep into Hadwyn’s soul with his glass eyes.

“Dale was mentally ill.”

No shit. Thought Hadwyn, but he had a feeling that Peter wasn’t done.

“Not just any mental illness,” Peter produced a document from his bag, “I think you should see this.”

Hadwyn took the document. There was no wrapper or anything. Just a naked document. But Hadwyn took it with his hands shaking.

It read:

A study has been done on Summonee’s Dysphoria, A mental illness characterized by believing that one does not belong in this world, or one who feels out of place, like they do not belong.

Summonee’s dysphoria. Is classified as a unique illness. It falls into the category Pychoform,

In this case, It includes at least, but is not limited to the following characteristics:

Depersonalization, derealization, Identity disturbance, fugue, and remembrance.

In normal dysphoric cases, amnesia would replace remembrance. But, for summonees, this just means that upon being transported from point A (Their homeworld) to point B (This world) they have their entire personality erased. Upon gaining consciousness, it is, in fact, normal for them to have some bits of memory, like reading, writing, walking and walking. They are given a random language, and they will learn quickly.

But some Aldarians claim to remember bits of their past life, most of whom are dismissed due to lack of evidence, but some of them take it very seriously and are even distraught or traumatized by the glimpses of their past life.

“Read the next page.” Peter ordered coldly.

Hadwyn flipped the page.

S.D - X

This is a new discovery. And it seems to be consistent in all of our research.

S.D - X is a variant of S.D (Summonee’s dysphoria) But these emotions and characteristics are changed from fear and sadness, to aggression and rage.

Aldarians who suffer from this disease, will depend on how much self restraint they have. Aldarians who are afflicted with this disorder often claim; The Divilamu was talking to them, and telling them to kill people.

They also claimed that the Divilamu would help them achieve great power if they obeyed his commands.

99% commit suicide less than a month after first being identified with the illness.

As for the one percent. They become violent and extremely dangerous.

“Dale was the one percent.” Peter explained, as if somehow being able to see the impossibly small upside-down text. “Dale wasn't just going to beat you up, he was going to kill you, Hadwyn.”

“B-but.”

Peter smacked his hands together. “Yes, I read his file! He’s as reckless and stupid as they get, but even he had a promising future. He was applying for the Institute in Paknov. Yeah, he cheated on the test, but he was still well-to-do. He had friends in high places, Hadwyn. He had everything laid out for him.”

Peter looked exasperated. His normal calm demeanor slowly being replaced by anxiety or worry.

Hadwyn didn’t know what to think. He didn’t know what to say.

“Why me then? Why me now? Tell me now that you can brief me!”

“For multiple reasons!”

“Tell me!”

“It’s too complicated to explain.”

“Just tell me god dammit!”

There was a pause, then he sighed.

“Loyd is at high risk for this illness. That’s bad news. Loyd’s strength, durability and abilities are off the charts. Dale was considered a severe threat, which was why I sent Teresa to take him out.”

Peter’s eyes looked like kaleidoscopes now. Hadwyn wasn’t good at making eye contact, but he couldn’t help himself.

“I lied to you about… gods, why? I- we have more time… I lied to you about Dale. Once I realized Dale was a threat, I told Teresa to bash his face in with the baton as hard as she could. She asked why and…. I couldn’t tell her why. So I told her to just follow my instructions. When we recovered his body, I knew immediately that Teresa could be reliable on the field. Dale was unconscious of course, but there was no damage besides the stuff that happened to him, I suppose, during his time on the streets.”

Hadwyn was silent.

“Imagine what Loyd would have been capable of.”

“What about his missing tooth?” Hadwyn asked, diligently. “If he’s so strong, how come he was beat up?”

“I don’t know… There’s still so much we don’t know…” He refocused on Hadwyn. His eyes were normal now; steel-gray.

“And Loyd with that dead phantom wolf, that was no coincidence, because that wolf was one of many…”

He cleared his throat. “There have been multiple killings of Phantom wolves that have happened across multiple countries. I believe they are connected. Still, I evaluated Loyd for symptoms of both S.D-X and S.D. He displayed traits of neither.

“So why did they let him go still, if he was?”

“Because Loyd pleaded innocent. He’s arrogant, selfish, and foolish, but that’s normal, at least somewhat. So it was my decision to let him go.”

“I thought there were judges?”

“There were. But the evidence was irrefutable. Plus, he had been provided with an attorney, one that I had advocated for.”

“So what happens next?”

I don’t know. Do you want me to pin a dumb badge on you like a dog at a show?”

“Yes.”

He grumbled. Fishing around in his bag, presumably for a badge.

“Here.” He pulled one out and pressed it against Hadwyn’s chest.

“Ouch.”

“Don’t whine, I know the lightning hurt more.” His lighthearted tone seemed to darken again, as with his expression. “As for what happens next.” You might be the only thing that stands in the way of… this wolf killer and the lives of possibly thousands of innocents.”

“Why me?” Hadwyn choked. “What’s so special about me?”

“Your mana capacity is incredible. I assume it was the only thing protecting your weak physical body from that lighting strike. Otherwise, you’d die, or in the best case, become a vegetable. As for the rest of the class, you are the only one out of the twelve who didn’t get adequate training, so…”

“So?”

“So…” He seemed to be thinking for a moment. “So, I will keep you at bay for now, or until you receive the proper training. You have an impressive tactical mind, Hadwyn. One I believe that… will be far more valuable than any physical strength or abilities that you could accomplish.

Hadwyn was stunned with pride. Whether or not it had been intended as a compliment, Hadwyn took it for one.

Peter threw his hand on Hadwyn’s shoulder. Now go out and meet the others, they are… concerned about you.”

Sure enough, Lars, Akoto, Balut, Ruby, Sophia, and Marco were all waiting outside.

“Where’s Teresa?” Hadwyn asked, before they even got a chance to do anything.

“I sent her on scout duty.” Peter responded from behind him at the door. “Alright!” He turned to the rest of them; “You have all graduated from the academy, but I want you to know that your training will not be over yet! That being said, I am still certain that you are capable of taking on any challenge that should come your way. Salute!”

Every student threw their hands up to their forehead, as did Hadwyn awkwardly.

“Now, you are AFHA. Your tasks are to obey my commands. Now at ease!” Everyone put their arms down.”

“Here is the briefing! There is a serial killer of Phantom wolves, and I’m sure by now you should know what one is.” He raised an eyebrow, then he asked rather aggressively; “Consider this your first exam before the field! A pop quiz, if you will. Now who here can tell me in under five seconds what a phantom wolf is?!”

Marco raised his hand.

“Speak Private Marco!”

“A wolf that phases in and out of reality, I think sir.”

“Think?! I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think! I asked what you know, private! And you’ve made it very clear that you don’t! The best subordinates don't suggest anything unless they are told! So if you don’t know! Keep your mouth shut!”

“Yes sir!”

“Did I stutter, private!?”

“No sir!”

“Did I goddamn stutter!?”

Marco finally seemed to get the message and didn’t respond.

“Who knows?!”

Ruby raised her hand.

“Speak!”

“A phantom wolf is a non-existent omnivore. It falls under the family canidi, and is extremely endangered, with there being an estimation of less than 10,000. Their numbers have been lower, historically, but thanks to programs implemented by the Aetlen Imperial code, they have been breeding them and protecting them to attempt to increase this number.”

Hadwyn timed her in his head, which Peter also seemed to be doing.

“Correct! Private Ruby, you are quite clear and accurate in your speech!

“Thank you sir! My father was an auctioneer-”

“Quiet.”

She went silent.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

He swept his head around the room. “What are the laws that are in place to prevent the hunting of these endangered species?”

Lars raised his hand.

“Speak, private Larson.”

“According to Aetlen laws, page 29, of hunting restrictions, it says that killing of the wolf is a capital offense, with a maximum punishment of execution, exile, or indefinite imprisonment.”

“Good, private! Now, when you were studying this book, you would have noticed that the phantom wolf is the only animal that if slain, will call for such punishments. Do you know why?”

Hadwyn knew what everyone was thinking; because it's endangered?

But he knew the real answer, so he raised his hand.

“Yes, private Hadwyn?”

“Phantom wolves keep the demons away, sir.”

“Correct!” Peter clapped his hands together.

“Now for phase 2.”

Hadwyn raised an eyebrow.

“You have all graduated, but your teaching is far from over. At this point, you cannot leave, or you will be prosecuted for desertion.”

“Now that you’ve learned about your abilities. I will be teaching you how to fight.”

Sophia gulped.

Akoto raised his hand.

“Speak, private Akoto.”

“Sir… we already know how to fight.” He motioned to the rest of the students. “Ruby is Lvl 41, Lars is Lvl 39, I am Lvl 45, and so on. Everyone here is at least level 30, except him, I guess.”

Akoto pointed at Hadwyn. It felt like a personal attack, even if he knew Akoto didn’t mean any hard feelings.

“Yeah, most of us eat bosses for breakfast!” Marco added. “I’m pretty sure that the only person here who might struggle is Hadwyn. No offense, Hadwyn.”

“None taken.”

Hadwyn shot a look at Peter. Do they know? He mouthed. Not yet, but in a moment they will find out. He mouthed back.

Peter sighed, deeply. “I haven’t even told you what we're fighting yet.”

There were murmurs.

“You won’t be fighting monsters, you will be fighting other Aldarians.”

There were a few moments of dead silence, then Marco tried to break it; “You mean like sparring? I’m really good at that.”

Peter sighed again. “No, I am not going to teach you how to spar…”

“I am going to teach you how to kill each other.”

By the time everyone was briefed on exactly what S.D-X was, they had already realized what the point of their training was.

“What I did with the last few days was child’s play. Today, you will be pushed as far as your body can handle.” Peter’s expression was grimmer than ever.

Few hours before, Peter had taken him to a small room to train him personally.

“We’re going to start with the most basic primer.” Peter said, getting straight to the point. “Cross your arms.”

Hadwyn obeyed, crossing his arms like he was in a coffin. “What now?”

“Now, concentrate.”

“...”

“It’s not working.”

“Keep trying.”

So Hadwyn kept trying. He was very good at it, after all. Trying and failing was the only thing that he ever knew.

But now’s not the time to fail! He thought, “Now's the time to succeed!”

When it became evident to Peter that Hadywn wasn’t using flow, he began to demand more.”

“You aren’t trying hard enough.”

“I am!”

“No you aren’t!” He yelled, somehow managing to keep anger out of his voice. “There’s something you're holding back! I can see what you think of yourself! You are not what you believe in!

Hadwyn felt dizzy, he just kept screaming; “Yes I am!” even though somewhere, he knew Peter wasn’t saying anything anymore.

Hadwyn flickered out of his reality, and his brain replaced it instead with a memory he tried to repress:

Rain poured down. He was standing with dozens of other people at a giant stone.

A stone with many names on it. Hadwyn had prayed that he wouldn’t recognize any of them.

But he did.

The girl’s name was blurry

He couldn’t even remember her name.

He cried.

Some adventurers who had visited out of curiosity laughed at him.

They’re quite annoying, aren't they?

He closed his eyes shut.

The laughter transformed into screams of terror, then they ceased.

He felt a hand on his shoulder.

Now this is much better… Wouldn’t you say?

He opened his eyes.

The crowd of people was gone, except for the people who had laughed at him. They were nothing but mutilated corpses.

He felt disoriented, and looked down at himself, he was grown up again.

He looked back at the grave. A woman stood there, the same girl he had imagined, but she was much older now. She held a bouquet of flowers, and wore a white dress.

And she had a ring on her finger.

Hadwyn reached out.

His hand felt nothing but wet stone.

He wailed silently in his own mind.

The laughter resumed.

He opened his eyes again.

“Hadwyn!”

Peter was snapping his fingers. “You spaced out for a second.” He sighed. “You know, when I was first learning flow, I would chant something. Like a song or something. Something dumb like that. But it usually worked.”

He relaxed his posture. “Here, repeat after me; My arms are a river, my hands a waterfall. When I chant this command, I give it my all.”

“My arms are a river, my arms a waterfall, when I chant this command, I give it my all.”

Hadwyn waited for a moment. Then, It finally happened.

He felt tingling in his arms and legs, then he saw his arms glowing.

He opened his eyes. His arms were not glowing, but he imagined they were. His limbs felt weak.

His flashback and the activation of his flow couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?

Regardless of whatever the cause of his sudden successful activation was, he was relieved to have finally activated them.

“Great! Now we can begin our lesson.” Peter was trying to not sound enthusiastic, but Hadwyn could tell he was proud.

“Cross your arms!”

“Yeah. Now that you are activated, you have to do it again.” He explained. “Now imagine building up potential energy inside your veins.”

Hadwyn crossed his arms. Nothing happened. He felt immense frustration.

“Oh yeah, it also helps to shout your command. That's why tons of summons do it. And it isn’t just for beginners either, It enhances the power of the ability.”

Hadwyn concentrated again. Third time’s the charm… He thought.

It worked, and Hadwyn felt his body twitching and his eyes darting around.

“Why am I twitching?” Hadwyn demanded, the room felt incredibly surreal.

“That's your primer. Aka, your mana is now ready to be used, and your body is on high alert for threats.”

“Alright, what do I do?”

“Duck.”

Hadwyn initially didn’t realize what Peter was trying to say until he saw the punch coming.

It was a pretty weak punch. There was no ferocity or coordination behind it. But it was going relatively fast, and, at this distance, it should have taken some skill to dodge.

But Hadwyn dodged it.

He felt the punch miss his face by mere inches, then he leaped back and got into an instinctive fighting position.

Peter smiled. “Good. Now that you have your basic act in place, you can start learning different moves.”

“You've already crossed your arms, now ball them up as you cross them.”

Hadwyn did as he was asked.

“Now cross twice quickly.”

He did it.

1. Cross arms with hands relaxed.

2. Cross arms again with hand balled up into fists.

“Now,” He motioned to a punching bag in the room. “Hit that bag.”

Hadwyn threw his best punch. Which was saying a lot, considering he spent hours and hours studying mixed martial arts. He often practiced them in fields or private areas when he was still a kid. He might not have been very strong, but he was perfect in his technique.

Still, there was no real need for the punch to be so coordinated, as the punching bag was not alive and couldn’t fight back or dodge, as well as having a simple structure with no real weak points. But Hadwyn imagined it was someone he despised, like Loyd or Mateo. He imagined Loyd’s surprised face right before he slugged him across the face.

His fist hit the bag with a shockwave, causing the whole room to vibrate.

“That was impressive.” Peter said. But Hadwyn could tell he was unimpressed.

The next day, Hadwyn went to the gym again with the rest of them.

There were rows and rows of weapons waiting for them. Swords, axes, bows, hammers, you name it. Hadwyn even saw some hand-held cannon things, rifles.

Peter waved his hand now that you know the basics of your flow, you can begin using swords for combat.”

Every agent was standing in a neat row. It was relatively cheerful, due to the fact his classmates much preferred weaponry and magic. Except Hadwyn. He was never that good at melee combat.

“Everyone grab a weapon!” He clapped his hands. “Except You, Private Marco. I know you brought your own.”

Macro hung back, muttering a curse under his breath.

Hadwyn browsed the weapons rack. The big two-handed swords probably wouldn’t be very economic. Spears were difficult to use properly. They were large and took up a lot of arm room, and if you made a mistake while using one, it would probably cost you your life.

Hadwyn briefly thought of using a rifle, but dismissed the idea. He didn’t really know anything about this new thing, and there were negative connotations surrounding it by Aldarians in general.

Historically, the idea for such a weapon had been around for a long time, for a few thousand years at least. But no one ever bothered to try and create it until a hundred or so years ago.

Sure, there had been many who tried, but all failed, and It was the Aetlans who had created a working prototype of the rifle. People saw it for the first time during a parade in Aetlea. No one knew why such a weapon would even be used. Rifles were new weapons, and since they were, there hadn’t been any magic or enchantments. So naturally, everyone was confused as to why the military would adopt such a weapon. It could only be fired once, and it took an inconvenient amount of time to reload. So people assumed that it was just a showcase, and that they wouldn't see the army equipped with it.

But when the next parade commenced, It became clear that these weapons were here to stay.

A few years passed with no word. People began to learn more about this weapon. Small metal pellets or balls could be fired with deadly accuracy. But what people noticed was how fast the projectiles could fire.

At this point, the Aldarian guild leaders and officials had dismissed such a weapon, mostly because of the power behind it. They had known that the rifle was capable of packing quite a punch. But an enchanted bow could do the same thing, hell, could hit even harder, and take a fraction of the time needed to reload.

But people slowly began to realize that something was interesting about these projectiles. Although bullets were not considered very powerful in terms of force, they were much faster than any other projectile.

This sends ripples through guild elites. Aldarian durability ranged. But some Aldarians were immune to ranged weapons, like bows. It was rumored that the Aetlens developed the gun specifically to use it against Aldarians.

None of this was proved, however. Guns were easier to learn how to use, at least for Anivors.

Hadwyn grabbed a sword.

“Peter clapped his hands. You’re going to start sparring with someone. Choose a partner.” He scratched his chin. “Preferably, pairs of one person who is trained, and one who is not.”

Marco coughed. “Wait, you’re saying that we’re gonna teach each other?”

Peter blinked. He sat down on a barrel nearby, as if he were predicting a long conversation. “That is correct.”

“Aren’t you the teacher?”

The chatter died down. A wicked smile spread across Peter’s face. “Well, I was. But those days are gone.” He put a toothpick in his mouth.

“Why do you need an entire team, are we all going to be at a party?”

“This isn't a guild.” Peter replied, “It's a federal agency.”

“Why am I in a class then? Why-”

“Why anything?” Peter rose and spat out the toothpick. “Why? Because the only way we can effectively deal with this S.D-X disease? Because before I finally managed to get permission and resources to create this organization, there were enough dead to fill an entire graveyard. You really think you can fight by yourself. Don’t be stupid. I’ve seen your teamwork. I’ve seen the pecking order of your parties. And I have to say, there's about as much teamwork in that as a goddamned rat cage! Even a pack of wolves has a more respectable societal structure!

‘I’ve seen the shit you do during battle. Not a thought goes through your minds. Not Oh, we might get fucking smited in this dungeon. Maybe repeating one spell won't solve every problem.”

“You see, Private Marco, I don’t have a problem with specialization. I have a problem when it becomes your entire thing. One dimensional! Mages, what happens when your magic is intercepted by orc mages- yeah, orc mages all those jokes you made about orcs never being able to cast a spell? Pray that it doesn’t come back to bite you in the ass! Shit if I know how they managed to do it, but they pulled it off. The point I’m trying to make here is our enemies have gotten smarter, and we’ve been getting dumber. Sure, it took them, give or take, a couple thousand years. When adonis was freshly summoned, they were banging rocks together and learning how to communicate. Fast forward a 5000 years, and we’ve done fuck-all. Meanwhile they took that time and learned how to build societies and communicate. But most of all, they came together and cooperated. Not loosely like our society, familial tribes. Now they have mages. What’s gonna happen when they figure out complex spells? I’ll tell you what’ll happen, I watched a man about your age get eviscerated because he decided that fighting the enemy alone was a better idea then simply waiting for his team to catch up. The poor soul tried to teleport behind the enemy lines. An orc mage intercepted his spell, and next thing you know, he was teleported right into a tree! It wasn’t pretty, I'll tell you. And that’s coming from a guy who’s seen more than his fair share of gore.”

“Open your eyes! What is it gonna take for you to realize that we’re set up for for failure as a species. What’s going to happen when the next demon king comes to power? It’s gonna happen, no doubt. They’re probably electing their damn leader right now! Think about that, we’re supposedly in an era of peace! Peace! I don’t care what the guilds show you. Oh, but you don’t have to worry about prioritizing saving civilians, nononono! You can go right ahead and forget about that! Bullshit!”

He shook his head. “I’ve studied the history of Aldarians, and oh how it’s changed, oh how it’s changed! How has the Aldarian culture become so perverted, that it’s no longer even socially acceptable to prioritize heroic duties over farming loot? I don’t have the faintest clue, but what I do know is, this era, this disease, this culture… We need to prepare for the worst. I regret every second I speak, for it spends time that could be used to prepare, but none of you know this! None of you!”

Rapidly, Peter drew his knife and charged at Marco. Who put him into a parry. But it didn't matter. Peter easily re-oriented his knife, stopping mere inches from Marco's face.

"What If I was going to kill you?" Peter asked. "How would you ensure you and your team's survival, no- your team's success?"

Marco didn't answer. He was still like a statue, more focused on the knife point between his eyes. He was shaking, because he was assuming if he moved, that Peter would slay him.

"I'm going to kill you." Peter said. He pressed the knife against Marco’s neck. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” Marco replied quietly, between panicked breaths.

Peter closed his eyes in pity. “Wrong answer. If you do nothing, you die. Worse, you fail.”

He pulled the knife away. “Do any of you get what I mean?

Everyone had been silent for the longest time. Even Marco had said not a word during the speech.

Peter sighed.

“Now take your weapons, and train with a roommate. If you don’t have one, then find someone who also doesn’t have one.” He began to walk away.

“Wait!” Hadwyn called, “Weren’t we going to have a lesson?”

Peter turned around. His eyes shimmered.

“You already did.”