July 24, 4021 06:00 [Manzhouli- Matriarch 04 Room 222]
“Hey, wake up! Hey, I’m talking to you! Wake up! Are you going to sleep all day, fun-size?”
Indra felt a sharp jabbing near his ribs. He made a weak attempt to brush it off, rolling over and covering his head with the comforter. Yet, the jabbing continued, this time with greater intensity. Someone was poking him quite aggressively as he was roused from his slumber.
“All right! All right! I’m up! Just stop with the poking!” he exclaimed as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He peered around the room to identify the source of the poking and groaned. It was the odd pair that he encountered when they had first arrived at Matriarch 04. The green-haired man seemed more reserved than his counterpart, quietly observing Indra from the doorway, dressed in a fresh new garb. He wore a turtleneck and capris, both pristine white. His sleeves were rolled up to display a tattoo of verdant thorns wrapping around his left forearm. His pale green eyes and honeydew hair complemented the brilliant emerald studs that adorned his ears. The rest of the man’s attire consisted of matching white socks and sneakers.
Indra’s eyes turned to the woman that the green-haired man was accompanying. Her attire fit her form well; a snug white turtleneck and capris. However, her clothing adopted a less understated style. Minimal blue splatters on her turtleneck mimicked the flecks of blue in her dark hair. Like her counterpart, sparkling blue hoops dangled from her ears. Around her neck, hung a gold necklace, holding an intricately carved pendant. The pendant seemed familiar to Indra for some reason, a sudden anger rising in his chest. As he narrowed his eyes trying to figure out where he had seen it before, the woman caught him staring, quickly tucking the pendant back into her turtleneck. Indra averted his gaze, uncomfortable as her deep sapphire eyes bore into his skull, making his ears warm again.
“Why are you guys in my room? I thought the lock was specific to the wristband?” he asked indignantly.
The woman looked at Indra, puzzled. “Your room? You must have been really tired after getting here because this isn’t a single-person living space,” she stated, pointing across from him.
Indra sat upright on his mattress getting a good view of his room, or what he had assumed was his room. Two other mattresses were placed uniformly across from his own, the comforters neatly folded and small dressers next to each one lined with trinkets, most likely belonging to each of the pair. It seemed like he was sharing a living space with these two, much to his dismay. He looked at his own area with his clothes strewn across the floor, just now realizing he had slept on his bed sideways, pulling the comforter in wild directions while asleep. He felt a renewed sense of embarrassment. Seeing his ears twinge red, the woman laughed. Even the green-haired man had a smile on his face. Indra scowled at them.
“Okay, I didn’t realize we were sharing. You don’t need to laugh,” he said snappily.
The girl quickly waved away Indra’s remark, still giggling, “No, no we aren’t laughing at you. It’s just funny seeing someone so unbothered by all of this.” She motioned to the room. “This ‘temporary’ relocation, I mean.”
Indra relaxed his expression, his pride a little less hurt. “Well, I can’t say that I’m unbothered, but I have important things I need to do once I get back. The sooner I clear processing, the sooner I can help my friends on the front lines. Depriving myself of sleep isn’t going to do me any favors in the long run,” he explained.
“Is that so?” she replied, amused. “Well, Emil and I couldn’t get a wink of sleep last night. Then, our wristbands went off an hour ago to get fitted— Oh! That’s right! We haven’t even introduced ourselves!” She interrupted herself to point at the man standing at the doorway. “That’s Emil.”
Emil waved as if to confirm that he was in fact, Emil.
The girl pointed back at herself. “I’m Prasannakshi. It’s a bit of a long name, so just call me Prasanna,” she smiled.
Indra’s ears perked up. “Prasanna? As in a Dvaitan name? You don’t look—”
“—Yes, yes, ‘I don’t look Dvaitan’. ‘I’m too pale’. I’ve heard it all before. Have you considered that Dvaitans not only come from the southern tip of the country but also from other areas like the north? Meaning, that there can be varied skin tones within the country, just like any other?”
Indra raised his hands in defeat. “Alright, I get it. The only other Dvaitan I know is my sister. You look more similar to Emil than you do to me so I didn’t realize we were the same. By the way, is Emil…?” Indra pointed at Emil and then back at himself and Prasanna.
“Oh, no. Emil’s from Namuui Ttang. It’s a country nestled in-between the Yoru Kingdom and Yuèliàng, famous for its agricultural technology,” Prasanna replied.
“Huh, neat.” Indra stared at Emil who returned a pleasant smile. “Anyway, you said something about a fitting?” he asked, turning back to Prasanna.
“Right, we got a message on our Nerve Cord to go to the tailors’ quarters for fitting. That’s why we're in these clothes. They’ll make you a custom piece of clothing based on your Trait, so it should be unique to your own person. Fitting started at 05:00 though, so you better hurry. I don’t know exactly how long they’ll wait for you,” she answered.
05:00? Indra checked the time. His eyes widened. Leaping out of bed, he swiped his bundled clothes from the floor, popping a toothpaste tablet as he quickly pulled them on, bolting for the doorway. He paused next to Prasanna; they stood at eye level with one another. “Hey, don’t call me fun-size when you’re short too,” he stated.
Prasanna smirked. “Ok, fun-size.”
Indra rolled his eyes. “Whatever, thanks for the heads-up.” He made his way out the door. “I’ll see you guys around!” he yelled as he ran down the hallway following the map projected on his Nerve Cord.
Prasanna called after him. “W-wait! We never got your name! Um, no worries! We’ll be in the Grand Hall so you can tell us there once you’re done!”
Indra looked back and nodded while continuing towards the tailors’ quarters.
***
When he arrived at a marble-blocked entranceway leading to the tailors’ quarters, Indra checked the notification that had been sent out to the Homunculi via the Nerve Cord. He had used the listed location of the quarters to find the chamber that housed its entrance. Underneath the location, was a set of instructions detailing a series of inputs specific to his assigned tailor. Indra found a small compartment underneath an alcove, tucked into the side of the entranceway. He followed the series of steps given to him, making sure to time his inputs correctly, until an audible clack! resounded throughout the chamber. The sealed entranceway slid open as the marble door sunk into the floor. The entranceway opened into a sizable elevator with no buttons, save for a single fingerprint scanner. Indra stepped inside the metal box and held his thumb against the scanning pad. After a moment the scanner made a light ding! and the doors of the elevator sealed shut. The thrum of the machine’s mechanisms drowned out any ambient music that played within as the Homunculus twiddled his thumbs impatiently.
After what seemed like several drawn-out minutes, the elevator stopped, the scanner dinging once more before the doors slid open without a sound. Indra stepped out into a long hallway of pure white. He scoffed at the minimalistic design that seemed to permeate every corner of the Matriarch. He was starting to grow sick of it. He reached the end of the hallway, facing a jet-black door with a gold insignia portraying a solid square and a thin needle bisecting it. A needle and a piece of cloth, huh? A bit on the nose, but the design looks pretty neat. By the door was a buzzer; Indra pressed it. A low buzz emanated from the speaker above… yet no answer. He tried pressing the buzzer several more times, growing increasingly impatient before he started to pound on the door. After the fifth consecutive hammer-fist on the solid block of stone, a sudden click preceded the sliding of the ebony slab into the wall, causing Indra to fall face forward into the tailor’s quarters, knocking the wind out of him.
“You done there, pal? With your incessant bangin’ on my door. I ain’t worried about normal people knockin’ on my door, but with you Homunculi, you never know who has super strength. It’s black jade for crying out loud! Do you know how much I paid for that? Especially to have my family crest inlaid on that thing? That damn door ain’t cheap. And here you come, up to my quarters, an HOUR late expecting me to fix you up some nice clothes. Let me tell you something, buddy. The world doesn’t revolve around you and your terrible sense of time management. You’re either here on time or not here at all!”
Indra lifted his head from off the floor to stare up at the speaker berating him. He seemed like he was in his early fifties: tall, slim but not quite thin, and well-dressed, with expensive-looking jewelry, meticulously curated to suit his style. The man’s dress shoes had an embroidered pattern matching the crest on the door. His leather belt held up a carefully pressed pair of pants. He wore a collared shirt underneath an unbuttoned leather coat. A bejeweled timepiece was strapped to his left wrist, a bracelet on his right, custom-crafted rings on his fingers, and a single chain around his neck, all gold. He was bespectacled, a set of golden rims and crystal clear lenses sitting upon the bridge of his nose, complementing his diamond studs. A well-maintained French beard completed his ensemble.
“You must be Stanley Chait, the tailor. It says I’m supposed to meet you at 06:15. I should still be on time,” Indra wheezed.
Stanley checked his timepiece and narrowed his eyes before looking at Indra scrutinizingly.
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“Ah,” he clicked his teeth. “06:14, just in time. So you—” he pointed to Indra. “—Are the special case. Our pal Kǔ Shén told me you’d be fitted separately from the others so I’ll be making you something special,” Stanley stated.
“Special?” Indra asked, getting up from the floor.
“Yeah, sure. Kǔ Shén told me all about your, uh, ‘predicament’. Y’know, no actual powers, hosting a Siren, the works. You’re basically carrying a demon in you, and of course, I, being the God-fearing man I am, have to help you. The irony isn’t lost on me, believe me, kid,” Stanley sighed.
“Wait, Kǔ Shén knows that I’m carrying a Siren?”
“He knows a lot of things, kid. It isn’t exactly easy to keep information from him. He’s got eyes everywhere. He’ll get what he wants one way or another, through any means necessary. Either way, you’re here. He’s taken an interest in you, and whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing is entirely up to you.”
Indra was troubled that Kǔ Shén knew about him, especially after Jìguāng had warned him not to disclose that information to anyone.
“You’re awfully calm for someone who knows about my situation,” Indra pointed out.
Stanley shrugged. “In my line of work, the fewer questions you ask the better. Helps you rest easy at night. I’ve been asked to make a lot of things—seen a lot of things—in my years of service. I don’t ask for clarification; I just do as I’m told and I get my payment. My duty is to fulfill the role of a tailor, just like everyone else that shares the Chait crest. So, making a special suit for the vessel of a demon, no sweat off my back. I’ve already left judgment in the hands of God,” he finished. “As I was saying, I’ll make you some special clothing. This is for everyday wear and you’ll also get a ceremonial garb. Once you get into practical training, then I’ll send over your DIVE Suit,” he explained.
“DIVE Suit? What’s that for?” Indra asked.
Stanley scratched his head. “Right, I forgot, they haven’t started rolling out the suits at Matriarch 07, yet. I think your mechanics were still working out the kinks. Well, essentially, the intended purpose of the suit is to synchronize with your nervous system and allow for the amplification of your Traits. Uh, in layman's terms, it makes your powers stronger, much stronger, but—”
“—It’s practically useless if I don’t have a Trait in the first place,” Indra concluded.
“Bingo,” Stanley nodded. “The suit is for battle, and from what I’ve heard, you Homunculi will be going through some sort of ‘screening’ process, so better safe than sorry. Now, I’ll need to take some measurements if you don’t mind.” Stanley reached into his coat and produced a measuring tape, waiting for Indra to oblige.
Indra nodded, allowing Stanley to take his measurements. The tailor stepped close to the Homunculus. Indra could smell fennel and peppermint on his breath and something more subtle on his person. Sandalwood? Why did it seem so familiar to him? Before he could ask about any of the scents, Stanley leaned in close to Indra’s left ear, causing the hairs on his neck to stand on end.
“There are cameras and microphones in this room. They’re recording everything we say and do. Keep looking forward,” Stanley muttered in a low whisper, barely moving his lips.
Indra kept a straight face, although his mind started to race.
“I can’t tell you much with the time I’ve been given. They’re going to send you to the Sunken Forest. Reconnaissance crews haven’t returned and Kǔ Shén just received a large shipment of expendable forces. Do you understand? You’re going to need the suit. Trust it and maybe you’ll survive. If you do make it back here, come find me again. Do I make myself clear? Don’t nod, just tap your left foot twice, lightly, I’m blocking it from the view of the cameras.” Stanley finished.
Indra tapped his foot twice. Stanley sighed, relieved, finishing the measurements and stepping back.
“Good, now I have everything I need to design your daily wear. You’ve got a nice build, kid—lean muscle like a runner’s, although I’m guessing that’s just from field missions. I doubt you’re putting any of that to good use elsewhere.” Stanley scratched his beard, clicking his tongue. “Something that reflects your Trait well…” He mulled over the design of Indra’s outfit, muttering to himself. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. “I’ve got just the thing!”
The tailor put both arms out in front and began muttering under his breath. Indra’s eyes widened in shock as thread began to exit out of Stanley’s palms. Stanley twisted and contorted his arms as he deftly weaved his fingers through a sea of black and white, forming what appeared to be a uniform. He used one hand to start work on the bottom half of the uniform, mirroring the palette of the top half until a fully realized piece fluttered before Indra’s eyes.
“What are you just standing there for? Get changed in the dressing room and show me how it looks!” Stanley exclaimed.
Indra snapped out of his stupor, taking his uniform from Stanley and hastening into the fitting room. He slipped into the new clothes and walked out from behind the curtain to show the tailor his outfit. Stanley grinned, admiring his work.
“Well? Whad'ya think? This is a unique piece for me, honestly,” he chuckled.
Indra looked incredulously at the tailor, checking his uniform in the mirror. He donned a pure white turtleneck hoodie with a singular left sleeve. On his left breast, a small onyx lotus in full bloom was inlaid with streaks of gold thread. His capris and sneakers were pure white, black lotuses dotting the tongues of his shoes.
“Why is my right sleeve missing? My tattoo is completely exposed! Also, what’s with the lotuses?”
Stanley shrugged. “I saw your palm and thought the lotuses would be a nice touch. As for the missing sleeve, I’ve seen another guy with a tattoo that burst every time he used his Trait. It was a real hassle to stitch his clothes back together, so I made a minor modification. It wouldn’t matter if people saw it either way since your sleeve would get ripped to shreds if you used your Trait.”
He rummaged through his coat pockets and produced a pair of gold hoops, inlaid with an eye and a protruding arrowhead. A golden face chain with helix clasps was carefully removed from one of his pockets as well. He tossed them to Indra who caught the jewelry, looking puzzled.
“The earrings are Conduits. We use them with new Homunculi to regulate their Trait outputs as they’re starting to get accustomed to them,” Stanley explained.
“Then what’s this for?” Indra asked, dangling the golden face chain between two fingers.
“That—,” Stanley pointed at the chain, “—Is a Trait accelerant. “Highly experimental and highly volatile, I might add. Only use it when absolutely necessary because I’m still workshopping all the kinks with that device. It could literally blow up in your face.”
“R-Right,” Indra nodded, carefully putting the chain in his pocket.
Stanley chuckled, materializing a piercing gun from his right hand. “Here, let me get your Conduits set up and you can be on your way.”
Click! Click! The piercing was finished in an instant, the Conduits now hanging from Indra’s ears.
“Beautiful, the entire ensemble is coming together. You better be on your way, kid. Here’s to hoping I’ll see you soon. If not… well at least you’ll die looking stylish,” Stanley grinned.
That didn’t make Indra feel any better. He thanked the tailor and hurried towards the Grand Hall where Prasanna said she and Emil would be waiting.
***
“Wait, so the thread just appeared in his hands out of nowhere?” Prasanna asked, looking at Indra doubtfully.
“No, it literally came out of his hands,” Indra explained.
“That sounds ridiculous,” Prasanna replied, shaking her head.
The trio was sitting at a table in the Grand Hall; a severe misnomer in Indra’s opinion. The pallid color scheme washed out any semblance of warmth in the area, a row of stiff tables and seats lining an enormous room, packed to the brim with Homunculi. As a result, it had taken ages to get food from the commissary. Indra watched as Prasanna and Emil scarfed down their food, leaving his own plate untouched. The two took notice of this.
“What’s wrong? Aren’t you hungry?” Prasanna asked, looking concerned.
“I am but—” Indra motioned to the food. “—What is this?”
The tray in front of him only had three items: a gelatinous square, a bottle of water, and a box of pills.
Prasanna looked confused. “What do you mean, ‘what is this’? It’s breakfast. Haven’t you ever eaten anything before?” she chuckled.
Indra shook his head, wrinkling his nose. “I’ve never eaten anything like this before.”
“Seriously? What did you eat at your Matriarch, then?”
“Congee, most days. Sometimes I’d eat steamed buns or maybe jiānbǐng—” He paused, looking at Prasanna and Emil’s ravenous faces, drool starting to form on the corners of their mouths.
Prasanna snapped out of it quickly, wiping the corner of her mouth with her sleeve. Suddenly, she grabbed Indra’s collar, pulling her face close to his, an intensely wild look in her eyes.
“What the fuck? We’ve been eating these shitty soy-gelatin bricks and vitamin supplements while you guys have been getting five-star meals daily? Where’s the logic in that? You need to tell me everything. The taste, the smell, the texture; I want to know how every morsel felt going down your gullet. Understand?” she demanded, shaking the Homunculus.
A loud alarm interrupted Prasanna’s tirade, the sound emitting from her Nerve Cord. Indra breathed a sigh of relief as she let go of his collar to check her wristband. Thank God. Suddenly, another alarm went off, then another, and another. The echoes grew louder as more Homunculi received the same notification on their Nerve Cords. Indra finally received the notification himself, his Nerve Cord blaring loudly. He opened up his mail, reading the message: HOMUNCULI TRANSPORTED FROM MATRIARCHS 05, 06, AND 07 ARE TO REPORT TO SUN ROCK IMMEDIATELY FOR TRAINING. ALL TRAINEES MUST BE PRESENT BY 08:00. TRAINEES THAT FAIL TO FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS WILL BE MET WITH DISCIPLINARY ACTION. FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS WILL BE GIVEN BY HYENA TENGRI.
Indra looked at the other two. Emil’s expression remained stoic. Prasanna grimaced, muttering to herself.
“Shit, we got the worst one.”