As a region, Specter was massive. For almost a millenia, if not longer–historians are split on the idea–it has been a region rife with life and prosperity. It’s a place where every facet of life thrives in some way or another; where varying environments coexist in harmony and Thaeons and humans have lived and worked together peacefully for a millenia–again, there’s some contention to that point, but moving on.
But it wasn’t always so.
Before cities dotted the sprawling lands there was chaos, as any good origin story will have. Obviously. Humans arriving on those distant shores to discover the dense forests and towering mountains; deserts and frozen wastelands began to set into motion a point that some call a mistake: why change what nature had already intended? Others praised those early settlers. Afterall, Thaeons were more than eager to bond with humans and more importantly that had the ability to. Why wish for anything else? Why change what works or what nature has designed? Either way, there was always a defined split between the two. What some called a master-servant duality, others deemed a balanced relationship where both parties mutually benefit. It was simply the most logical solution to bring order into a wild new land.
Rom, however, was of the mind that Thaeons and humans working side-by-side has always been the way things should be. It was the entire reason he began his research at Demiurge in the first place. What better way to benefit humanity and Thaeons than by actively helping new Trainers form Bonds? It was a two-fold system: newbie Trainers received [Null] Thaeons to grow from scratch and Demiurge could gather mountains of data from their subsequent evolutions, aspects, styles–all the good stuff. Their cradle, as it were, was in Fan Town where many powerful Trainers emerged every year through their program. How much he respected professor Raven. What other researcher had an Evo3 Thaeon? It was the entire reason he was chosen for that position. The data from these new Trainers was absolutely invaluable thus far, allowing their research to reach a new height in understanding the nature of human-Thaeon bonding. It was this research that began to quantify what the Bond was and how it operated. Or rather, putting into words what Trainers for centuries had already known. The Bond was neither about a close connection or a master-slave duality; rather, it was a gradual fusing of two creatures into something beyond what any one of them could accomplish by themselves. Not a physical fusion, of course, but something deeper. Internal. Beyond what a non-Trainer could grasp intuitively.
It was also for this reason that Rom opposed this new research that took the Bond out of the equation. There was no power that any single person or Thaeon could accomplish that would outweigh the power that came from a single Bond.
As Rom watched those neon lights glow through the windows, his stomach churned, his chest tightened in connection with his own Thaeon who rested in the next room. It knew something was wrong and its anxiety became Rom’s. Once the lights died, and Marv’s screaming faded into silence, Rom slammed the button to open the doors. Their research was done for and it wouldn’t be long before authorities came to investigate the complete misuse of company property for the sake of one man’s idiotic dream of evolving humans.
Except, when the purple smoke cleared, Marv was still standing. In fact, he was visibly the same save for a faint purple glow in his eyes. [Mind] was the first aspect Marv wanted to attain, despite Rom’s continued warnings that it wasn’t the same as human intelligence. In fact, it had nothing to do with intelligence in the way many humans understood it. If it was, then those Thaeons with [Mind] aspect would have human intelligence naturally.
“It worked, Rom,” Marv said.
“Marv, I–”
“No, stop. Hand me a technique file. Quickly.”
Rom ran over to a filing cabinet where there were sixteen separate drawers packed to the brim with varying techniques Demiurge had observed over the years. While Thaeon techniques could be anything, there were certain frameworks and patterns in all their attacks and moves.
“Which one first?” Rom asked while tabbing through all the [Mind] folders.
“Mind Push is a good start. Basic for all Evo1.”
Rom grabbed the file and ran back over to Marv with trembling hands. He opened it and read through the contents. Thaeons learned naturally through combat and the Bond with their Trainers. Rom’s own Thaeon, having a [Heat] aspect, didn’t need much of a push to hurl a stream of fire or heat its body to damage melee attackers. Files, on the other hand, worked as methods for Trainers to manually alter and teach their Thaeons different techniques to fit their style better. They were loose guides that usually required hours of coaching and practice but Marv, after skimming the file for a few moments, closed it and handed it back to his assistant.
“Ah, this makes a lot more sense now,” Marv said.
“Huh?”
“Usually these file data read like nonsense. Like trying to explain calculus to a toddler; it’s impossible to understand the nuance unless you’ve had a connection with a Thaeon that knows the move. For Trainers, it’s intuitive. Now it makes sense even though I’ve never had a [Mind] aspected Thaeon.”
“Makes sense how?”
“I can’t explain it to you, Rom. Let me try this and I’ll show you.”
Marv stepped out into the open and he scanned the room until he saw a soda can sitting on Rom’s desk. His faint purple eyes intensified for a moment and the can flew off towards the far wall where it smashed flat and fell to the floor.
“That felt weird.” He turned back towards his assistant whose trembling was now visible as if he were freezing. “A new age is upon us, Rom. The next step in human evolution is finally here. After years of research and experimentation humans can finally move past their [Null] aspect and need to bond with Thaeons in order to make progress. But first. we need more testing. Let’s go to the battle room.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
* * *
“I’ll go first,” Rose said, her red hair still flying about from Dagger’s static hum. The dog-headed Thaeon watched as she stepped up to the table and began, one by one, touching each egg. Raven watched with intense eyes. If their research was correct–it often was after all these years, but who knew? Part of the excitement with Demiurge was discovering new data that changed their perception–then each egg should react immediately to a single touch before breaking open. In all his years in Fan Town, they had never been wrong.
Upon her touch the fourth egg began to rock around like in the video before cracking apart into shards of dust that disappeared in the air. On the table, much to her delight, stood a small, bright green Thaeon with two legs and large jaws that locked eyes with her and immediately leapt into her welcome arms.
“Thaeons come in all shapes in size, but starter forms usually come in only a few basic forms. They change, obviously. Dagger here”–he stroked his Thaeon’s scales again with a renewed electric hum–”came out of his egg as a blob. A literal pile of goop. For a moment I thought they had tricked me. It wasn’t until Evo1 when he took on his [Flying] aspect did he look more like a serpent with small wings. Do you have a name for yours, Rose?”
“Obvs, yeah. Its name is Rager.”
Nil scoffed, but kept his comments to himself.
“All right, Max, you’re next.”
The large boy lumbered to the table where the first egg exploded open before he could touch it–a rare sight for Raven, one that he noted. From the egg was what looked like a lizard about arms-length and a triangular head. Its entire body was a pale gray, its eyes tight slits like vertical lines. “Brute is his name.”
Fitting, Nil thought, looking at the others to see if their eyes confirmed his thinking. They were too mesmerized to care, it seemed.
“Pic and Poc, head on up.”
Unsurprisingly, both eggs two and three burst open to reveal two Thaeons that were mirror images of each other, both with round bodies, stubby legs and arms, and a round head with one eye. The only difference was that Pic’s Thaeon had a left eye, Poc’s right. Even their colors were similar save for Pic’s being a light red, Poc’s a light blue. Together they said, “Tic and Toc.”
Original. Very nice. Nil thought, watching as they carried their ball-looking Thaeons off to let Max get the fifth egg to open.
“Well, isn’t that interesting,” Raven said after seeing the Thaeon pop out. It floated with no legs, its body smooth and featureless with human-looking hands and a raindrop-shaped head that ended in a point with two plain eyes and no mouth. “It’s rare to see starter Thaeons flying without wings.”
“Sky,” was all Max said before resuming his place in line, his Thaeon hovering just over his left shoulder.
“All right, Nil. Last one in, last to choose. Ready?”
“Is it a choice if they’ve been chosen for us?” Nil said as he approached the sixth egg.
Finally, here it was: the moment he had waited for ever since applying to the Demiurge program six years prior. No one ever believed in him or his dreams of becoming a top Trainer–not even his own parents who always taught him to think more with his feet on the ground. It wasn’t their fault, really, considering his father could never get past Evo2 as a Trainer and his mom had decided long ago that battling and braving the Wilds outside of town was a fool’s errand. It wasn’t uncommon for parents to push their own dreams or inadequacies on their children, but Nil had no desire to follow any of their weak advice. He approached the egg with resolve, determined to snatch his new partner and get a headstart on all the laughing idiots behind him and their stupid names. He thrust his hand out and grasped the egg’s top, smiling like a maniac through all his fluttering emotions.
But nothing happened.
The egg did not budge, shake, twirl or break open. Nothing. The line behind him tried to hold in their laughter and failed. Only with Dagger’s loud and charged growling did they pipe down. Raven, utterly confused, approached the table to observe the egg.
“Now this is a development. Try again, Nil.”
He did with the same result; the egg was a statue. Even Dagger swooped down and lowered his long snout to the egg for a sniff, looking up at Raven with a cocked head.
“Well,” Raven began, then cleared his throat. “I suppose you all can clear out. Go home and show your Thaeons to your families. We will commence with a beginner battle this afternoon. Dismissed.”
All left, eyeing Nil with mirth. They wanted to see him fail. Nil stayed, staring at the egg, fighting frustrated tears daring to well up in his eyes.
“It’s not your fault, Nil. We simply made a mistake in selection. We–”
They both turned back to the egg which was now quivering, vibrating violently. A glimmer of hope until, instead of breaking outward in lines of light, the cracks formed dark lines etched like ink across the surface until the entire thing was a spider web of black. Raven jumped back, his face spread in shock, grabbing his clipboard to make rapid notes. Then, instead of bursting open into shards of dust, the entire thing collapsed into a puddle of black that, as a puddle does on a hot day, diminished in size until there was nothing left. Dagger swooped down to look under the table, Raven to the sides searching for any sign of what the actual hell just happened.
“This is unheard of. Absolutely novel,” Raven was stammering amid the growing static hum of Dagger.
“Hey…professor?” Nil mumbled.
“Not even with dud eggs do we see such a showcase of complete dematerialization. Do we, Dagger?” Another hum of agreement.
“Raven, sir, um.”
The professor continued ducking around the table, looking for any sign of where the black puddle may have gone. “Wait until Marv hears about this–wow, what a–”
“Professor!”
“Huh, yes Nil? What is–”
Both he and Dagger froze in place, wide-eyed and mouths agape. Dagger with his long fangs sparking small tendrils of electricity between them, his ears perked up with similar sparks bouncing around.
On Nil’s shoulder, clinging on this ear as it leaned outward stood a small, humanoid figure of pure black, not bigger than a foot tall. There were no features but an entire body like the blackness of a starless night. There was something more. Something he did not expect and was not explained to him: his chest felt tight as something clenched it from the inside, then released. In its wake it felt as though a small thread was connecting him and the Thaeon–it was unlike any Thaeon he had ever seen–that was perched on his shoulder. That connection pulsed, transferring between them strange emotions and thoughts; confusion, a drop of fear, unbelievable joy. This must be the Bond. The bursting of happiness in the wake of that tight clenching brought more tears to his eyes.
Raven, his hands flat on the table, looked with admiration at what he saw. “This is unheard of…I…I need to call Marvin immediately.”
“Wait, professor!” But Raven was already through the doors. Dagger floated over to the newborn Thaeon to lower its nose and sniff to which Nil reacted with a wave of fear, but then understanding as his own Thaeon reached out and touched the wet snout in a blip of communication between the two: hello and welcome to the world, is what Dagger was saying.
With so many questions whirling around in Nil’s head, heart and Bond, Raven finally returned with a frown on his face.
“Marv is currently tied up with new research, Dagger. Nevertheless! Nil, come with me into the back. We have much to discuss before you head home to your family.”