“So, that’s the spire I took to go to the Threnosh world. As far as I know, I might’ve been the first Earthian to go to another world,” his dad paused. “It was very reckless of me and don’t ever follow my example,” he added hastily.

“I know, Dad. You’ve told me, like, once a month.”

The spire looked just like any other spire.

Alin was more interested in the old college campus it stood in.

After walking around he decided that it was nice, not that different from the other colleges he had walked around in.

The city was another new place he had never been to before because up until a few years ago it was still technically enemy territory.

It was where his dad, mom, uncles, aunt and cousins had lived during the early spires years.

They had visited his uncle and aunt’s old house.

It was still half-destroyed.

Another old story he had heard dozens of times.

A fishman attack when the Deep Azure and cult were a strong power.

The cult still held San Francisco, but without the Deep Azure their power had steadily declined over the years.

The state government and the Watch had decided that it was better to just keep them contained rather than spend lives killing them all.

Outside of the rare fishman attack the strategy had proved effective.

“It’s not that different from back home,” he shrugged.

“But it’s history.”

“Meh, seen it, heard the stories.”

“That spire—”

“Is the same as the rest. Don’t we think that they’re all probably the same spire? You know, a many is one sort of thing. And that they’re just there, but also everywhere. So, one is the same as any other.”

“Man, you’re all the way into that jaded, too cool for anything teenage years aren’t you?”

“It’s not my fault,” he raised his hands. “Just how you and mom made me.”

“Yeah, well, let’s see how long you can keep the act up.”

“Your surprises?”

Shit!

He had been too determined to be cool that burying himself in nonchalance had blinded him to the obvious goings on around him.

The huge lawn surrounding the spire was a mix of summer garden and defensive fortification.

Behind where he stood with his dad were a handful of fortified bunkers with armed men and women. There were more surrounding the spire. The bunkers were integrated into the tall, thick wall encircling it.

People from the state government stood nearby.

The governor, staff, Rino, Kare and other guards.

The Watch was there. Watch Commander Court along with Amber, Max and others.

Despite the high levels in attendance everyone seemed fairly relaxed.

Well, that wasn’t true.

Some looked nervous, but it wasn’t the scared of dying kind of nervous.

“Figure it out yet?” his dad raised a brow.

“They’re coming back?” he frowned.

“Hmm…”

“No? This looks like a formal set up.”

The government people were dressed up and there were guys holding up flags.

“Threnosh are coming?”

“You’re partially right on both accounts.”

“What’s happening?” his eyes widened.

“You’ll see,” his dad smiled smugly.

“Damn you and such,” he shook his fist.

The wait suddenly became exciting and unbearable.

Cool was gone and it took all his focus not to start pacing.

The space in front of the spire suddenly tore without warning.

People flinched at the sound and sight.

Except for his dad.

“How do you do that?” he whispered as the rent widened.

“Do what?”

“Not freak out.”

“Practice.”

The rent stabilized and one man stepped out.

He had only seen his Uncle Remy in pictures and videos. Interacted with him through the spires message system, usually around birthdays and holidays. They had never actually talked live.

His dad and uncle didn’t really look the same at first glance.

You had to really look to see the similarity in the eyes and nose, specifically around the bridge area.

Black hair, brown skin, paler as though he hadn’t been in the sun much.

He was taller, though, being much leaner made the height difference look much more that it actually was.

“Remy!” his dad rushed forward.

Shit. Be cool.

He walked forward, trying to not look as lame as his dad.

His dad and uncle wrapped each other up in a bone-crushing hug.

He stood behind awkwardly.

“Hey, is that Alin?” Uncle Remy grinned. “You’re a lot taller in person.”

He held up his fist.

His uncle bumped it before striking like a snake and constricting him.

“Too cool for hugs!” his uncle laughed. “You’re all like that at this age.”

“Please don’t mess up my hair,” he wheezed.

His uncle’s hand froze and returned to his side.

“Sure, I can do that.”

They stepped away from the bright tear.

Aunt Megan came through next.

More hugs.

This time his hair didn’t escape ruffling.

He resolved to cut his hair short.

For some reason all the adults in his family couldn’t resist ruffling his mop of waves and slight curls.

“Um… are Tessa and Vee not coming?” he noticed that they had moved a good distance away from the tear.

His aunt and uncle shared a sigh.

“Hopefully soon,” his aunt said. “Vee’s got her Justice V group thing and Tessa isn’t comfortable with the succession plan.”

“The others?” his dad said.

It was then that Alin noticed the small, silver egg-like container in his aunt’s hands.

“You need to take that?” his dad said.

“Yeah,” his uncle said. “Tessa sent them a spires message shortly after it happened, so they’ve known for years, but—”

“It’s different when your child finally comes home to you. Even if it’s like this,” his aunt said.

“At least they have something to keep. There was nothing left of…” his uncle shook his head.

The mood grew somber.

“You guys should go take care of that. They shouldn’t have to wait any longer. They’ve waited long enough. We’ll meet up later,” his dad said.

“Sure,” his uncle said. “C’mon, honey.”

His aunt and uncle floated into the sky.

“Was that…”

“For some the price of adventure is too much. Even, especially, if they’re willing to pay it. Ultimately, those left behind share the burden of the costs.”

The next person to step through the tear was utterly alien.

Not that he could see the Threnosh within the giant power armor that lumbered into view.

The bipedal monstrosity looked close to ten feet tall. Thick plates of dull gray Threnium covered every bit of its surface. Stout limbs looked large enough for him to crawl inside if hollowed out of all the artificial muscles and systems. It lacked a visible head. Weapons were mounted on both shoulders with ammunition feeding apparatuses leading to its back. It had all the weapons.

“Awesome,” he whispered.

In addition to the shoulder-mounted weapons, there were ones mounted around the lower arms where the hands would’ve been on a person. Both upper and lower legs featured front, side, and probably, rear-mounted weapons.

The Threnosh shook the ground with each step as it walked right up to his dad.

Alin swallowed the lump in his throat and fought the urge to take a long step back.

It had suddenly gotten very dark, as though there was an eclipse.

The armor thrummed with contained power, giving off noticeable heat.

“Honor.”

The Threnosh’s voice was disturbingly human-like.

High-pitched, almost like a child.

“I greet you in the way of your people as you showed me many cycles ago.”

A faint whine accompanied by the shifting of gears and twisting of artificial muscles emerged from its mid-section.

Armor plating opened and a robotic arm extended.

“Welcome to my world, Primal,” his dad shook it, “it’s been too long.”

“I look forward to destroying your foes. Now I must perform greetings as instructed,” Primal lumbered over to the state government contingent.

Alin took a bit of smug satisfaction to see that many of them took a step back as Primal loomed.

“At least they aren’t cursing,” his dad said. “They picked up that habit from me.”

He listened to Primal go through what definitely sounded like a prepared statement as the Threnosh exchanged greetings with the governor.

“You know… it’s a good thing I prepared the humans too,” his dad said.

“Dad, are you listening to them? They’re having a conversation, but it sounds like Primal’s just reading off a list.”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“It was Caretaker, probably. They’re better than the predictive algorithms we came up with back before the spires.”

“What do you mean?”

“Automated voice and A.I. stuff,” his dad shrugged. “Companies used them for phone calls so they wouldn’t have to pay actual people to take them. It got creepy good by the time the spires stopped advancement. I swear, I had calls that I got tricked. Thought I was speaking to an actual person, when it wasn’t.”

“Uh… that sounds kinda weird and creepy. Why’d they even bother?”

“For profit. Cheaper in the long run to use A.I. They were even getting into things like art. Painting, writing, acting. They could make old actors almost look like their younger versions. Even use actors that had already died. Didn’t quite get past the uncanny valley, but several more years of development probably would’ve gotten them over that.”

“That sounds kinda cool, but then when I think about it… sounds kinda creepy and terrible.”

He had a ton of questions, but the next Threnosh arrived.

This one was nothing at all like the first aside from wearing power armor.

They were short, even in armor, coming up to the bottom of Alin’s chest.

Their armor was colorful, as if someone had splashed all the colors of the rainbow then ran all sorts of brushes over the surface before the paint dried.

The armor was sleek, almost fragile looking.

What truly drew his eyes was the disc-shaped emitter set into helmet’s forehead.

The faceplate shimmered from opaque to translucent to reveal a withered gray-skinned face with splotches of light and dark gray tones.

The Threnosh’s lip-less mouth broke into a smile as her big eyes creased.

“Kynnro,” his dad held out a hand.

The Threnosh didn’t take it, instead she wrapped him up in a tight hug.

“This is the proper greeting among friends. Vee taught me many years ago,” Kynnro said.

“It is,” his dad sniffed.

“And you,” they turned to him. “Are a much taller, thinner and younger version of Honor. I conclude that you are the offspring. Name: Alin.”

“Um… hi,” he waved lamely.

Kynnro moved in for a hug, which he gingerly returned.

“Honor, you told us that Earthians didn’t create new ones as we do. Yet, I detect a 99.9% match in facial data points.”

“Yeah, that happens sometimes,” his dad shrugged.

“Interesting. I will learn more. I must exchange diplomatic greetings with your Earthian allies and ensure that Primal adheres to Caretaker’s words.”

Alin frowned, puzzled.

He thought back to his dad’s stories about the Threnosh. The pictures and videos he had seen from the years his dad had spent on the Threnosh world.

The oldest of the so-called defective would be in their mid to late twenties at the most.

Kynnro looked way older, which made sense cause they weren’t human.

Duh, he thought, they obviously age quicker. Dude, that sucks. Old at twenty. Cool power armor though. Like Mom and Dad’s, but with all the options. I wish I had one too. Maybe, I can ask for one for my birthday. I’ll frame it as keeping me safe from potential monster attacks.

The next Threnosh appeared.

Frequency.

Alin recognized them from the many speaker-like modules on their power armor.

How could he forget?

They had been the one that had ultimately killed Mother Madrigal with a slight assist from his dad.

He had actually viewed a partial recording of that fight.

The huge, flesh-wearing, woman monster had haunted his nightmares for weeks afterward.

His mom had been so mad at his dad for letting him watch that.

She may have had a point.

A ten year old probably had no business watching his dad in a life or death struggle against an eldritch monstrosity.

The way Frequency’s sound waves had melted the flesh on both Mother Madrigal and his dad had stuck with him for a long time.

“Honor, Honor’s offspring. I greet you on behalf of Prime Custodian 3 and Commander Caretaker 1. We thank you for accepting us during the last cycles of our lifespan,” Frequency said.

“That’s not necessary. I told you guys. Whatever you need, if I can do it then I will. Giving you a place to retire without some assholes wanting to study you and cut you up after you—” his dad cleared his throat. “The Threnosh council still sucks and fuck them for wanting to do you dirty like that after everything you’ve done for your people.”

“Yes, fuck them indeed,” Frequency embraced his dad.

Then offered him a hand.

He shook it, but totally limp-wristed it.

Threnosh were supposed to be super fragile, but that was when not in their power armor.

Details. I’ve got to notice the details.

Every combat teacher he had had harped on that point.

“I must greet the local council and make sure that Primal remains sealed until we’ve fully tested the local environment for potential deleterious elements. We shall speak later at this reception event,” Frequency said.

More Threnosh emerged bearing sealed crates on hover carts, which was awesome.

Though none were ‘defective’.

The standard Threnosh were indistinguishable from each other.

Their gray-skinned faces were dominated by big eyes with a dark pupil that took up more space in comparison to a human. Their lip-less mouths were so thin that it looked like they didn’t have mouths until they opened them. They lacked a nose, merely had two barely noticeable slits above their mouths.

Alin tried to observe all the details as the Threnosh spoke with his dad while recalling what his dad had told him about the Threnosh.

It sucked to be a standard Threnosh, he concluded.

All he had to do was consider how they were named.

Their job, followed by the location of their birthing creche, followed by a number.

That was it.

The sum total of a standard Threnosh’s identity encapsulated into three things.

To exist only to work?

Awful in every way that mattered.

They had cool tech though.

“Boy,” his dad beckoned him over and introduced him to the small team of standard Threnosh.

An engineer and fabricators to maintain his dad’s old friends’ power armor, as well as to create gear and exchange ideas with the Earthians.

The tentative first steps in building an alliance, which seemed super complicated to him on account that Earth wasn’t united at all.

“You understand then?” his dad said.

“Yeah. That Terminus thing made it so that it doesn’t cost all your Universal Points to travel to another world. It’s a flat fee now. Still based on how powerful you are, but it won’t zero you out. Since Earth connects directly to any other world, it means that everyone’s going to want to claim a beach head to try to protect themselves from their enemies. Earth’s like a sudden backdoor got opened up to everyone’s worlds. At least that’s what you learned.”

“So far and knowing the spires system, things can and will change if it means our lives get more difficult.”

“Which is what the spires want… never ending conflict.”

He had that ground into his head for as long as he could remember.

It was the same with his friends.

First, from their parents.

Then, in school and training.

“I’m going to help the Threnosh move their equipment.”

“What about me?”

“Stay here, talk to them,” his dad nodded at the three Threnosh moving through their introductory greetings. “Keep things cool, you know, smooth over any potential cultural misunderstandings. Make sure Primal doesn’t try to fight… stuff.”

“Yeah, sure, cause I totally know how to do that,” he frowned.

“Turn that frown upside down,” his lame dad grinned. “The best way to learn is to do.”

“What? No. You’ve told me the exact opposite, like, a million times!”

“Meh. Things change, right?”

With that his dad took to the sky with the standard Threnosh and their many crate-filled hover carts.

Taking a deep breath and pumping himself up with muttered words he walked over to the fancy diplomacy people and tried to look like he knew what he was doing.

The smile on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes.

That awkward feeling stayed with him all the way through the reception back at the Capitol.

There were speeches and junk, but he spent most of his time at the food tables.

He had to keep his protein intake up despite the disruption of his normal schedule.

Sure, the food wasn’t exactly clean, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Things finally looked up after the reception.

They took the Threnosh to a block of old-timey garages next to an old-timey junkyard, which, coincidentally was only a few blocks away from the Watch’s HQ.

Mindful of his lessons, he kept an ear tuned toward his dad while intently watching the Threnosh unpack their crates and set up all sorts of awesome, super science-y machines.

“Can you afford it?” Watch Commander Court said. “Costs went up across the board.”

“It wasn’t unexpected. So, I’ve been building up my reserves,” his dad referred to Universal Points.

“How long can you pay for everything? How many buildings do you own? A few thousand?”

“Something like that. Maintaining most won’t be an issue. The main problem are the stores now that I have to pay to replace supplies people take.”

“You’re going to have to start charging. We’re doing that up here. People grumble, but we set the prices at cost. Plus, most people haven’t really needed to spend their points over the last fifteen, twenty years. They’ve got enough to take care of necessities for years even if they don’t gain a single Universal Point from this point on. The new tax on gains pretty much covers the baseline ownership fees for everyone.”

“I’ve got years before worrying about taxing people.”

“Must be nice being able to hunt monsters down anywhere in the world. Kill a giant monster and boom, a few hundred grand in your pocket.”

“If you want I’m more than happy to share. I can bring, say, four or five of your best on those bounty hunts. Obviously, I can’t give you guys sole access, but we can set up a rotating system.”

“Maybe, but I’ll need to talk with Hanna. We’ve got a handful of people that can contribute to a fight like that and the opportunity cost might not be worth it. They’d have to gain enough to justify removing them from our defense. Especially, now that boundary protections are being phased out,” Watch Commander Court spat. “At least the fucking spires didn’t take them out all at once.”

“That day was always coming. The tutorial lasting decades lulled us all into hoping that it’d last longer.”

“Shit! I was hoping I’d be dead before I saw that happen.”

His dad’s conversation turned into background noise as Fabricator Southern Ice Pass 11398 finally finished setting up the first fabrication machine.

It had been crazy to watch it unpack out of a crate that looked way too small to contain it. The machine was about the size of three fridges when it was set up.

The sleek backpack integrated into the fabricator’s power armor unfurled into many thin arms that vaguely reminded Alin of spider legs with multi-tools attached.

The arms scuttled across the fabrication machine as the fabricator moved around it in a precise manner. Not a movement was wasted.

When the fabricator was finished, the closest thing Alin could compare the machine to were the 3D printers his dad used to print those tiny figures they used to play miniature war and board games.

“Um… hey… sup?” he approached fabricator. “Fabricator Southern Ice Pass 11398, right? So, that’s pretty cold.”

“Southern Ice Pass region temperatures range from -12° to 5° Celsius.”

“Damn, dude, that’s, like, almost always freezing.”

“Correct.”

“Uh… so, like, do you have to calibrate it?” he gestured to the fabrication machine.

“Correct.”

“What are you going to fabricate?”

“Designation: Standard Threnium Chestplate, Earthian dimensions.”

Kynnro came over and hugged him.

Which was weird.

“Alin or is it Boy? I have heard people call you by both designations, names,” Kynnro said.

“My real name and my nickname. I’m cool with whatever,” he shrugged.

“Acknowledged, Name: Whatever,” they said.

“Uh… wait. That’s not what—” he searched for something diplomatic to say.

Kynnro’s wrinkled face crinkled even more as they broke out into a high-pitched laugh.

“I told a joke at your expense! However, it is an attempt to bond in friendship in your species’ way, therefore I laugh with you and not at you.”

“Hahaha… cool, totally got me. Friends? Yeah, it’d be cool if we could be friends,” he leaned closer, “you can tell me about stuff my dad won’t tell me about his time on your home world.”

“Yes, friend,” they hugged him again.

He awkwardly hugged them back and tried to think of way to tell them that one didn’t hug multiple times in one conversation.

“There are many stories. We will have to list that which you know so that we can cross-reference to avoid redundancy,” Kynnro nodded.

“So, where’s Primal and Frequency?”

“The latter continues diplomacy with the Earthian leader of this region. Designation: Governor Alejandro Richards. While the former provides escort. It is strange. Honor had told us that your species does not included function in designation.”

“Yeah, not officially. It’s not like ‘governor’ is on his birth certificate and he doesn’t keep it unless he’s governor. I’ve talked to him a few times. He’s pretty cool, really trustworthy. Like, he’s a bro. Doesn’t give off that leadership vibe where they’re, like, judging how to use you, sort of. He wouldn’t still be governor if it was the old days. I think the most you can be one was, like, ten years. But, I guess he’s doing a good job because people keep electing him. Like, he told me once that he’d quit if he could, but no one wants to run against him.”

Alin had to explain what a birth certificate was. Along with what an election was.

The subjects, admittedly, didn’t belong to his favorite class, so he warned Kynnro that they should verify the information with his dad.

It didn’t help that he was distracted by the fabricator.

“You show signs of interest in the fabrication machine.”

“Yeah! It’s pretty cool!”

Fabricator Southern Ice Pass 11398 pulled a metallic canister larger than their diminutive body.

The spider-like arms hefted it without apparent difficulty.

“Is that the Threnium?”

The fabricator carried it to the rear of the machine, inserting it.

They repeated the process three times.

“Yes,” Kynnro said.

The fabricator walked back to the front of the machine and turned it on with a gesture.

The panel suddenly lit up with a holographic display.

Armor-clad fingers danced.

Sadly, the fabrication bay was hidden inside opaque walls, but he knew enough to know that the Threnium in liquid form was being extruded into form, in this instance a chestplate sized and shaped for a standard Earthian… er… human.

“How does that even work?”

“Please specify, Alin or Boy,” Kynnro said.

“Like, how does any of that work? How do you keep Threnium liquid without heat? How do you harden it? How do you make it strong without hammering and quenching?”

“The council has not authorized the sharing of that information, please accept my apology.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I totally get that. Secret information is secret for a reason.”

“Would you like to fabricate something?”

Kynnro’s eyes glinted, though that might’ve been the ceiling lights reflecting off their faceplate.

“Yes, please!”

Kynnro directed the fabricator to follow Alin’s instructions.

Describing the dimensions of the item he wanted to make took longer than the actual fabrication process, since he was pulling it from memory.

The Threnium sword came out of the machine fully formed. Blade, guard and hilt in one piece. All he’d have to do was wrap the hilt in an insulating material and it’d be combat ready.

The dull, gray metal was cool to the touch.

He tested the edge with his thumbnail.

“Sharp,” he murmured.

“A katana? Shameful…”