The sun had sunk by the time the vehicle stopped in a parking lot. The sky was dimmed a dusky red, yet that night was chilled, like hues of icy blue. Dark, but the city lights lit the surrounding constructions.
A low thump echoed when the truck's door shut behind Vin when he stepped down. Once everyone was out, Mr. Dover clicked a button on the electric key and locked the vehicle. Then, he quietly steered for the tall, modest hotel building ahead. Vin willingly followed, yet Figgy seemed too distraught to think for himself, following the elected mother duck.
When they entered the building, an overhead AC unit impaled Vin with cold air, and he shuddered like a surge of electricity had struck his nerves. Furthermore, the internal blond lighting was too mighty for his tired eyes, so he closed them and crossed his arms while Mr. Dover spoke to a receptionist.
The man didn't notify his ducklings when he was done; he just grabbed his packed bag and walked toward the elevator. Vin noticed, but not Figgy, so he called over to the student, still basically a stranger.
They both lagged behind, slow and uninspired. The teacher saw them unhurriedly approaching the elevator, but he didn't hold the door. Just as it closed, the teacher withdrew their phone to make a private call and, at the same time, told the boys, "room 511."
Five hundred, the fifth floor of the building. A long way to travel on faith alone. Nothing at that time felt real or made sense. Figgy had a blank look on his face, one that he carried to a lounge chair. Vin watched the boy plop down, then glanced back at the elevator. He wanted to go up after the teacher, but his lazy bones tugged him to the chair alongside Figgy.
They both spaced out, peering into the bright, busy, well-furnished lounge. They sat there as others walked by, and soon ten minutes of trance-like states had passed. Even though they were empty-minded, the single thought of their expulsion lingered.
At the fifteen-minute mark, Mr. Dover returned to the first floor in search of them. He was out of a suit and into a pair of racecar pajamas. "Get up!" he scolded, kicking their chair.
He was a man of low tolerance. Every life lesson he'd learned, all the knowledge imparted to him from his father and their father, molded him into a textbook male exemplar.
Kid's print pajamas aside, Mr. Dover was a hard-baked cookie and expected the same from the future generation. Vin and Figgy's low morale and immature behavior tested his patience. He seemed to have a strategy to help them; however, his generosity came from a love for Season's University and the new-era athletes they were cultivating. He believed those two could enrich the school, which is why he took them in; however, he had second thoughts.
Mr. Dover made several gestures on his smart device, and soon after, a chime sounded on Vin and Figgy's phones. "I just wired enough money for a flight home," he said.
"This life isn't for wet rags like you. If you aren't prepared to fight, get off this island." End of the lecture, the man left.
"Don't joke," Vin mumbled. He leaned up, rubbed his weary, lavender-colored eyes, and yawned. "I was just resting."
He rose slowly, then glanced at Figgy, who hadn't budged. Even though he wanted to urge the boy to act, he knew it wasn't his business. They had to decide for themself if that life was for them. So, alone, Vin caught the next elevator up. With strangers- Who all flanked on the opposite side in worry that the agitated-looking boy would snap.
Vin counted the rooms once he reached the fifth floor, 501, 502, 503- all the way up to unit 511, where Mr. Dover was standing in the doorway speaking with a gassed and hunched-over individual. For a moment, Vin wondered who could have knocked on that room's door, but then Figgy raised their sweaty forehead to him before mumbling, "you're last."
"Hardly," replied Vin. "This race hasn't even begun."
Mr. Dover was brief and gestured for them to enter the room. A one-bedroom with a bathroom, living room, and outdoor balcony. The space had a decent lighting rig, but he kept it dim to fit the late-night vibe.
First and foremost, the three repeated introductions and then recounted their predicaments. Mr. Dover was removed from his position in the scouting party because he failed to fulfill benchmarks. Instead, he was assigned as a professor for a class of celebrity figures. There, they were attacked, and most of the students were annihilated, which led the principal to close the program. Officially, the three of them were unemployed and unenrolled in the university.
Every bit of their wounds was still new, a refresher wasn't necessary, but it raised the question of how they'd keep their positions. The spotlight was on Mr. Dover to explain himself, though he shifted it to Vin instead.
An open computer on a desk was already logged into the SFX company's website. The man had made a straightforward request of Vin, and that was for him to enter his nanospheres model number on the webpage.
Vin could quickly fulfill that paltry task, but as he went for the keyboard, Miyo arose and began smashing random keys to input gibberish. Vin asked what was up with them, whereas Mr. Dover had a few choice words for the phoenix.
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"Gavin has no clue what you are, does he."
"How long has it been? Months, years? Somehow Gavin came into possession of you without realizing your importance. Now you're sabotaging us because you don't want things to change between you. It's Selfish."
To begin with, he couldn't fathom how someone could acquire an ability without seeing its details. Regardless, even Miyo, who'd been so opposed to Vin finding out its secret, couldn't deny the man's accusation.
Miyo diminished, backing off the keys and flying away from them entirely. That was the first time Vin had seen them act so distant and fearsome of him, as if he were an opposition. He attempted to go after his partner, but the man held him back. Just until he was done.
Eventually, Vin initiated the inquiry, and when the result bounced back, it displayed exactly what Mr. Dover had anticipated.
Ability Sheet
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Name: Miyo Dance
Type: Summon
Rarity: Mythic
Affinity: 100/100
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Physical Defense: ????/????
Magic Defense: ????/????
Speed: ????/????
Physical Attack: ????/????
Magic Attack: ????/????
Description: The Prince of Death
The desk, computer, and the chair Vin sat at while typing jerked when Figgy bucked forward in shock and hit his knee. He was brushed up against the instructor, who swatted the boy away before beginning, "Knew it. That thing is too powerful and intelligent for a mid-grade summon."
"Pepper, Jane's little cub, has a lot of similar characteristics. It has a developed personality, thinks for itself, and can change its shape at will. I assumed the bird was also legendary, but this."
Vin debarked from the seat and left in a muted fashion. Mr. Dover watched him silently stray away, then activated his phone while regarding Figgy, who looked faint. "I need to make some calls, don't be here when I get back."
Before hustling away, the man tossed a slim, white key card onto the table that Figgy was hunched over. They were still mesmerized, gawking at the computer screen as if he'd misread it.
Considering the fifth known mythic creation was just discovered in a 3.5-star hotel room, it was a permissible reaction.
Elsewhere in the room, Vin searched for Miyo. There weren't many hiding places, so he quickly found them perched atop the kitchen fridge. It was a foot taller than him, but it was a high-ceiling room, so he could climb on top without hitting his head.
Once he pulled himself up, the phoenix rotated its back to him. Fine, since Vin also looked away. While gazing up at the roof, he thought about how to proceed, what to do or say.
But Why? Miyo wasn't another stranger, so there was no point in overthinking or feeling nervous. He simply said what was on his mind.
"Ay."
"Don't think I'm going to treat you any differently just because you're some great summon." Vin was straightforth, almost brash; regardless, that was his character. "You're still just Miyo Dance," he added.
Vin occasionally wished that one day the phoenix would miraculously begin responding to him in English. There was so much to converse about, so much pain they could relay to each other. Unfortunately, That instance didn't come, but as Miyo unhurriedly turned toward him, Vin imagined what they'd say. They'd probably be just as brief as him, and slightly annoyed in tone, they'd say, "I know that."
Jutting out his finger, Vin gestured toward the closed freezer door. "If you ever call me a lowly human, I'll lock you in a birdcage."
Miyo's flaming head snapped toward him, and it squinted in irritation before it bomb-rushed him and pecked his face. Vin winched and commanded them to stop, but when they continued, he slapped and missed the varmint. It wasn't that Miyo's jabs hurt; they were simply pesky because they could attack him as much as they wanted, but Vin always missed the agile creature.
They fought for over a minute. For every attempted hit by Vin, Miyo would dodge and needle him three more times. Eventually, he surrendered with an apology, which seemed to mend their pressure. Things were as they should've been between the two; all that was left was their overwhelmed third wheel.
Figgy hadn't moved an inch from where they had left him. With everything that had happened that day, it made sense he would shut down. Miyo shared the wealth of its assault with them, which revived the boy from their daze.
They became sensible enough to suddenly shout, "sorry, sir!" But appeared even edgier when faced by the unbelievable summon. It took him time to recount what Mr. Dover had stated, but Figgy collected the key card and offered to escort Vin and Miyo to their room. It was only one door over, room 512, and identical to the last. Oddly compelled into the role of servitude, the boy held the door open for them and even offered to sleep on the couch instead of the only mattress.
Considering Vin lived in a hospital bed for several years, then slept on the ground of his dorm, he was more than happy to take the cozy furniture. He was tempted to lay down immediately but found the willpower to first drag himself to the shower.
Only after washing away the day's misfortune did both boys rest. They fell asleep within seconds and without a word to one another.