“You’re almost late,” Zuken stated in a factual tone as he went over some paperwork behind his desk, even once looking up as Lukas walked into the room with Tanya in tow.

The terramancer sat on a very comfortable chair against the table, with everything save his head and shoulders obstructed from Lukas’s line of sight by the folders stacked upon each other. Elena sat on a chair in the extreme west, her brunette hair tied backwards into a single tail. She wore a formal white short, a black skirt with a slash on one side that showed off a generous portion of her thigh, and shoes that were definitely a study in high-heeled torture devices.

“Sorry,” Lukas replied half-heartedly, “I got lost in a bit of soul-searching.”

Tanya made an odd, throaty noise from behind.

“What?” Lukas challenged, glancing back at her. “It wasn’t like we agreed to a particular hour.”

He had decided to play the game. If Zuken and his crew thought that he shared a deeper relationship with Tanya, then he was going to give them what they expected to see. The entire day he had been acting overly-casual with the blonde, as if they were long-term acquaintances if not friends.

It was driving the girl insane.

And he loved every second of it.

Zuken looked amused at his scorn. “That is true. Also, my thanks for cooperating earlier. The Overseer’s presence sped up my plans a bit, especially with your little demonstration.”

Lukas nodded.

“Tatun was impressed by your performance. You now have his attention.” Zuken paused for a moment. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

Lukas arched an eyebrow.

“Tatun has this habit of trying to… pick a lucky bicorn out of the herd of adventurers. Someone who shows potential. Stamp his own brand on them.”

“And you think…”

“That he will do the same to you? He will try, yes. You should expect really expensive presents from him soon. He’s predictable that way. The good thing about this is that your documentation will be iron-clad. Tatun wouldn’t want the Army sniffing around his newest toy. That you work for me only makes him want you more.”

“And can I? Be his bicorn?”

Zuken tilted his head to look at him obliquely. “Sure. Join a person you’ve never known over a man that knows you’re not a bremetan, not even from this world and capable of manacrafting without a kami, and is getting you everything anyway.”

Both Elena and Tanya were giving him odd looks.

A wicked smile played on Lukas’s lips. “I see. I’m being intimidated. Are you going to tell me why, or do I get three guesses?”

“Stop being a wiseass, Lukas,” said Tanya, “none of us want the Overseer’s attention on us.”

“Then you should’ve thought of that before throwing me into the fight.”

“I admit that was hasty on my part. In my defense, I did not expect you to trounce his candidate so easily. Tatun will now watch you, observe you, pay attention to you. People with your power or skill do not just pop in out of nowhere. This can be a benefit. Or, it might prove to be a curse.”

“For you?”

“For everyone.” It was Elena that answered. “Don’t get cocky. Not everything is about you.”

“But for that to be true, I’d have to not be the center of the universe.”

He ignored Tanya’s throaty growl, and looked around at the room he was in.It was a reflection of the person working in it. Every piece of furniture, every pen, paper file cabinet and device needed for the job was positioned and organized flawlessly. Granted, a third of this paperwork would have been absent had computerization existed in this world, but he knew better than to make suggestions on that end without getting a better idea of the true potential of the world around him.

“Fine,” He consented, “what’s the issue?”

Zuken tilted his head slightly to one side. Sitting like that, he wasn’t at all imposing to look at. A man in his good shape, probably in his late twenties or early thirties, with a respectable amount of muscle, in the way of long-distance runners, or a soccer coach, but too heavy in the shoulders and arms for that to be all he did.

He glanced at Tanya and spoke in a clear baritone voice. “I need everyone to leave. I have private business with Aguilar.”

“But Zuken—” Elena objected.

Zuken raised his hand. “You know the risks and the possibilities. This is something I have to do myself.”

“Are you certain this is a good idea?” Tanya asked. Lukas wasn’t sure if she was worried about Zuken or for him, which… felt oddly refreshing. Or maybe that was because after spending an inordinate amount of time in the presence of entities that could have killed him on a whim, he was finally towering among others.

In less than ten seconds, the room was empty save for the two men sitting on opposite sides of a large, wooden desk, looking at each other with different levels of wariness and expectation, as if trying to figure out what was going through the others’ mind. Once again, it was a poetic repetition of the events that had transpired back in the yokai territory.

“Where is that metal band?” Zuken asked after several moments of silence.

Lukas tapped his abdomen. “It reacts at the oddest of things. So I made it into an undershirt.”

“An… undershirt?”

“It’s a slime. It can become whatever it wants.”

The edges of Zuken’s mouth twisted into a small frown. “Or whatever you want it to be.”

“That too.” Lukas beamed at him. Smiling always seemed to annoy people more than insulting them. Or maybe he just had an annoying smile.

Zuken seemed a little put off by his attitude. “We had some very interesting experiences with that band. I’ve seen automatons crafted out of metal, as well as sentient weapons that hold many mysteries within them. But a complete living creature? That’s new, even for me.”

“It’s a big world,” Lukas shrugged.

The terramancer nodded acceptingly and looked down at the papers in front of him. “Lukas Aguilar. Origin — Outsider. Race — phenotypically bremetan. Eyes, brown. Hair color: black. Assumed age, twenty-one. It is possible your world arose from an Asukan invasion in the past. Estimated lifeforce output, five thousand units. Estimated Mana Output, six thousand three hundred units.”

Lukas stood there, suddenly very wary. He had expected this, but the sudden, blunt impact had caught him off-guard.

“Nature of mana, Fire and Ether. Kami—” Zuken met his eyes. “None.”

And right there, was the first roadblock. Dead or alive, his body had been under observation for over a month. Spiritism arose out of voluntary sacrifice of soul capacity, so it wasn’t surprising they had technologies to determine if someone had a kami in them or not.

Kind of like thermal imaging cameras, only for the soul.

And knowing he was an Outsider was one thing, but him showing the ability to perform manacrafting without a kami? That was something else.

“I didn’t hear a question there.”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Are you a deviant?” Zuken asked.

Lukas blinked. “And that is….?”

“Someone of a mixed heritage. I know the jotun are wielders of fire and frost, depending on their origins. The svartalfar’s affinity for terramancy is well-known and feared for good reason. The ljósálfars twist light to their will and the Vanir can use the World energy directly.” He paused for a moment. “All of them are physical beings, but are attuned to a singular form of mana. But you, on the other hand—” He trailed off.

“I can use multiple elements,” Lukas affirmed, wondering where this was leading. “And no, not a deviant.”

Zuken cupped his chin. “I assumed as much.”

“Are we going to have a problem?”

“Potentially. It’s not unheard of for an adventurer to wield multiple kami, or boast enough soul capacity to bring out multiple affinities of their kami, but… they’re rare, and are usually Gold-tier or higher. But not only can you use multiple elements, you do it without one.”

Lukas eyed him.

“I have a couple of questions, and I need you to answer them truthfully. Be advised, if you try to lie to me, I’ll react appropriately.”

“Honestly, that’s not much of an incentive for me to be truthful either.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “I’m trying to help you, Lukas.”

“You’re trying to help me help yourself,” Lukas shot back. “I wasn’t born yesterday. You’ve had my body sitting in your labs for over a month. God knows what sort of tests you’ve done on me. So no, if you’re hounding me for questions, it is to seek answers, not help me.”

“And you’re against this? Us finding out more about you?”

“I’d like you to call a spade a spade.”

“I suppose that much I can agree,” the man murmured, “yes, I have questions, and I’d like you to answer them. Truthfully. In return, I swear I’m not going to act against you.”

Lukas narrowed his eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Zuken nodded.

“Shoot. What do you want to know?”

“Where are you from?”

“Earth.”

“Which is a—”

“Realm, from what I understand. Much like this one.”

“And your people travel to this world often?”

“Can’t say.”

“Why?”

Lukas weighed his options. Tanya’s image of Zuken painted him as a man of connections and questionable motives. He did not doubt even for a second that if the man was keeping him here because of some misguided sense of fairplay. No, Zuken had seen something valuable in him, and did not know his exact worth.

That was what this meeting was for. Determining his worth.

Very well. Two could play this game.

“I’ve… reasons to believe that something destroyed my world, or at least damaged it beyond repair. It is possible that there was an Asukan invasion on my world earlier, and possibly Nordic ones as well, since I recognize species from both, and well — your folks look like mine do.”

“Interesting.” Zuken crossed his fingers and rested his chin on them. “And how did you get here?”

“My parents put me on a baby shuttle and sent me to a different world so that I could live a normal life and love sunshine and flowers. Instead, I got stuck in a cave and encountered you folks.”

Zuken led out a brief snort of amusement. “I suppose I walked into that one myself. But levity apart, what would you say is the soul capacity of the average… whatever it is you call yourself?”

“Human.”

“Right. That.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Humor me.”

Lukas narrowed his eyes. This was a trick question, and he knew it. He already knew that lifeforce and mana were measurable, and the presence and absence of kami detected. In that light, how impossible was it to measure one’s soul capacity?

“What’s there to think? Surely that’s not a hard question?”

Oh yeah, this was a trap alright. But staying silent would make things worse.

No value, no matter how great or small, would ever match up to infinity. Nothing would explain the impossible amount of soul capacity he had within himself. So instead, he went for the truth.

“Nothing.”

“Excuse me?”

Lukas smiled. The truth was, at times, stranger than fiction. Yeah, it’d be interesting to see him tackle this one. “Nothing. Absolutely zero. People on Earth did not have soul capacity. We did not level up. Or have skills.”

“No soul capacity. No skills,” Zuken repeated dumbly.

Lukas beamed. He could practically see the gears running in the terramancer’s mind. Seeing him struggling to face a truth so byzantine reminded him of himself, when Inanna had unveiled her existence before his eyes.

“Nothing. We led our entire lives, reliant on our intelligence and technology. No lifeforce, no mana, nothing, at least, in the last two thousand years. Before that, not so sure.”

“And why not?”

“Because I have genuine reason to believe that gods and goddesses existed back in my world back then. As did demons. And lifeforce and mana and all that.”

“But not any longer?”

Lukas shook his head.

“And yet you do.”

“Well,” Lukas drawled, “All that potential had to go somewhere.”

He let that one hang there. And given the gobsmacked expression on Zuken’s face, the effect was just as devastating.

“You… you can’t be serious.”

“I’m not,” Lukas replied with a straight face. Crossing his arms, he regarded Zuken’s growing scowl. “What? You expect me to just tell you stuff like that? Nothing is free. You want information? Pay for it.”

It was hard not to smile. He could almost see the gears running inside Zuken’s head, trying to sort between what was true, and what wasn’t. The fact that every single thing he had revealed had been the absolute truth while simultaneously being one of the most unbelievable things Zuken had ever heard was not lost on him.

“Do you think this is a joke?” Zuken growled. “The Cobalt Army would be happy to pay a hefty amount to get their hands on you.”

“If you tell them about me, then yes.”

“And what’s stopping me?” Zuken asked coolly.

Lukas pressed his palms against the table, and regarded the terramancer. “We had a bargain. I help you with the anomaly, and you get me documentation and a job.”

“And I am keeping my word,” said Zuken, just as calm. “Keeping your origins a secret was not a part of our deal.”

“And thus you’d hold my Outsider status over my head and force me to comply with your new demands?”

“I don’t see what is stopping me. Do you?”

Lukas eyed him. Zuken had just established that he knew exactly what Lukas was capable of, and the towering differences between them. And despite that, he wanted him to react with fear and caution.

Why? Because of fear of prosecution from the Army? Could the Banksi be betting so much on the Army’s arrival and their ability to trap him? Perhaps he had already had the Army ready to move in if the shit hit the fan? It’d definitely explain why he had Tanya and the others leave. Was this what he had meant when he had mentioned ‘risks’ and ‘possibilities’ to Elena earlier?

No.

No it was too simple. Too… direct.

For the first time since waking up, Lukas used Tachypsychia. Not to fight, but to think. The world around him slowed down to a crawl. His initial burst of panic died down, and his thoughts began racing a hundred miles a minute. Zuken had his body for over a month. No doubt he had performed whatever experiments he could, and derived whatever conclusions that were possible. And after this period of experimentation, he had practically showed off Lukas to the Overseer like a prized collection.

No sane person would do that, unless he intended to keep said ‘collection’ for a considerable time period‌.

At least, that was how it’d happen on Earth.

The pounding of his heart slowly abated with that thought, till it approached something that he could at least pretend was normal.

“Yes,” He said at last. “You are.”

“Excuse me?”

“If you wanted to, you’d have done that already, instead of having this conversation and gloating about it.”

The terramancer stared back at him, his face set in a half-frown, thoughts indecipherable, before giving a curt nod. Then he calmly raised his right hand and flicked his fingers once, and the ambient energy inside the office room drastically shifted.

“I had estimated a sixty percent chance of you attacking me right off the bat,” Zuken said, as he continued to watch him. “I could almost see you considering alternatives, verifying your chances against a possible army onslaught and every other possibility you could think of. That you could arrive at a satisfying conclusion makes me feel a lot more confident about your involvement in our… world.”

His throat constricted at the thought of being so predictable, but Lukas kept his composure. “What do you mean?”

Zuken wrinkled up his face, as if carefully considering what he would say, and taking his well-being into account with an almost grandfatherly concern. “I might not look like it, but I have some experience dealing with beings that eclipse me both in raw potential and strength. And I’m certainly not foolish enough to deny the existence of beings above my power or their ability to cause unbridled chaos. So far, you’ve shown no inclination towards disruptive tendencies, bar your unorthodox attitude and outspoken behavior, especially in matters of social hierarchy.”

Lukas felt like a kindergarten kid being spoken to by a teacher during a Parents Meet. Zuken’s words carried with them a sense of finality, but despite that, Lukas wasn’t sure what the man was going for.

“Tell me, the terranancer’s eyes drilled into him. “Just why are you hiding the fact that you’re a fucking demigod?”

…

…

“...huh?”