Evaluation:
Name: Cl03
Home World: Junkyard 07
Grade: F +
Rank: 71
Physical Grade: 1.27
Strength: 1.0
Dexterity: 1.3
Speed: 1.5
Mental Grade: 1.4
Reflexes: 1.2
Intuition: 1.0
Fortitude: 2.0
Gift Grade: F
Gift (F): Emperors Personal Vault (Upgradable)
Gift (F): The Brittle Blade (Upgradable)
Recognitions:
Emperor
The edges of his lips turned up despite everything that had happened. The results were beyond his hopes, and far exceeded what he expected of himself. And his rank was high enough to get him off of his world too. It was laughable how different he was before taking the trial. Spending a year spearheading the downfall of an Empire had changed him. Who could’ve guessed? The obvious notion made him chuckle a little as he felt a little more content. Now more than before, he could accept that the events of the past year had been nothing more than a game. There would still be nightmares. Noticing his thoughts were straying, he focused on the gifts, mentally selecting them for more information.
Gift Grade: F
Gift (F): Emperors Personal Vault (Upgradable)
: Store up to one item in an extradimensional space
: Cannot store containers to carry more items
Upgrade Path: Unknown
Gift (F): The Brittle Blade (Upgradable)
: Summon a blade of unmatched sharpness
: The summoned weapon cannot be used for defensive maneuvers
: Can only have one blade summoned at a time
Upgrade Path: Create or adopt a sword style befitting the weapon
Well, those were definitely something, and he thought that they sounded useful. Although neither really stood out to him. The first would let him store a single thing, but it wasn’t like he owned anything powerful or valuable that he needed to store. His year in a near medieval era didn’t leave him with anything useful. The clothes he was wearing were the only things of any worth, and only because there weren’t any obvious holes or tears. He could overlook the blood stains on it. The simple grey tunic was made of thick warm wool and the brown color of the pants hid any dirt stains. Although he knew that items from the trials, clothes especially could sell for a decent amount. Rich people liked the novelty, he guessed. That aside, he checked the last thing he had received.
Recognitions:
Emperor: You have been recognized as an Emperor
Unlocks: Emperor related gifts
He didn’t know why he expected the information to mean anything. He barely knew about gifts and even less about recognition. Were they valuable? Obviously. Anything that gave him a gift or access to more would be priceless. Not that there was a way to sell it even if he wanted to. He sighed a little realizing that he was intentionally avoiding using either gift.
The thrum of his heart grew quicker as he held out his hand. These gifts defined him as much as his rank, and he hoped that they would be useful. His hand was shaking a little, and he couldn’t help but feel a little bit like a kid. If he counted the year within the trial, he would be twenty. Considering all the things he had done in that trial; he was sure he had more experience than most adults. He shook his head a little. Why was he so scared of his own gifts? It just felt so petty, and he tried to use the skill.
“Summon?”
His statement changed to a question as he realized that he didn’t know how to summon the weapon. The word clearly didn’t work, and the gift didn’t mention a verbal cue. In fact, it didn’t mention anything which felt a little strange. Shouldn’t it have a guide or something? Neither gift mentioned anything about their activation, which made him think that he was missing something. If there weren’t any instructions, then it was probably obvious. He tried envisioning a sword, and just reached out. He imagined that the sword was just floating in the air in front of him. He found it hard to imagine a sword just floating there. Instead, he tried to imagine it in his hand already. The hilt held like so many other weapons before.
It didn’t even take a second. The weapon just appeared on his empty palm. Then it tilted slightly and began to fall to the ground. He moved quickly trying to grab it but just ended up smacking the hilt further away. The blade crashed into the ground and shattered.
The metal edge of the blade had broken like poor glass. It spread over the ground in a shower of tiny metal pieces. Some pieces were small enough to seem like glitter as they reflected the light. He just stared at the weapon in disbelief. The hilt remained fine and just sat on the floor. A small bit of the blade protrudes from it, and he couldn’t help but feel like it was flicking him off. The shaking that he had suppressed earlier returned. This time it extended from his throat as he let out a sad, pathetic laugh. The worthless gift felt like a cruel joke.
His knees gave out and he fell forward. His palms landed against the ground, and a sharp pain spread from them. One if not both hands were bruised or broken. He just stayed like that for a moment. His laughter turned more desperate and maniacal. It went on and on until he started coughing and wheezing from the strain. Slowly he dragged his hands across the ground, the gesture left bloody streaks on the ground. Then he noticed something. The blood outlined a slit in the ground. A perfect streak through the white stone that was surrounded by metal pieces.
He scrambled over to it quickly, ignoring the metal pieces that broke further as he crawled over them. His fingers ran down the stone. The cut was familiar, and his eyes darted to the message of his gifts again. He reread the description of the brittle blade and realized the truth. He summoned the blade again.
The tiny bits of scattered metal, and the hilt dissolved into a strange black smoke, as the sword reappeared in his hand. This time he didn’t let the hilt slip and gripped it tightly. Then he drove the blade down toward the stone, and the edge of the weapon ran parallel to the stone floor. He brought it down, in a halfhearted swing. The blade cut through the stone like it was made of loosely packed snow, its edge dug deeply into the ground. It was only when he tried to move it out, and the side of the blade brushed against the stone that it shattered into pieces again. He brought up the information about the gift again.
Gift (F): The Brittle Blade (Upgradable)
: Summon a blade of unmatched sharpness
: The summoned weapon cannot be used for defensive maneuvers
: Can only have one blade summoned at a time
Upgrade Path: Create or adopt a sword style befitting the weapon
His weapon was just that, a weapon. It would fail when he used it for anything defensive, and it seemed like the contact between the blade and stone counted as a defensive maneuver. The gift was finicky, to say the least. But he was glad it just wasn’t as totally useless as it had initially seemed.
The idea that the past year had awarded him with a worthless one had broken what little composure he was able to maintain. He knew that it would take a while to truly get over the trial, and he would never return to who he was before it. Even he could notice some of the changes. It wasn’t the time for these deliberations, and he tried his other gift. This time he just imagined the space for the item was just kind of there, hovering beside him in perpetuity. The only thing he had to put in it was the sword’s hilt. It worked easily, and he managed a smile as he pulled the broken weapon out. At least that one worked easily enough.
He tested both gifts a little more before searching for a way out of the oddly white room. Stranger still was the doorway that suddenly appeared a few feet away from him. There was no door, but it was definitely sized and shaped to fit a rectangular door. Where the door would be was a blinding light that reminded him of the token. He didn’t care to figure out how it had appeared; didn’t even give the smallest consideration to how the trials were reacting to his thoughts. He just walked through the doorway, accepting that it was just another impossible aspect of the whole thing.
The light drowned out the world for a second, and he stepped out into the snow-covered playground from before. He stood just in front of the piece of metal he had been sitting on before. The fact that he even remembered it surprised him. He certainly hadn’t given the park any thought over the past year. His feet crunched against the snow as he took a slow step forward. A part of his mind told him that he was still in the trial. This was just another test. The message at the edge of his mission reminded him that this was reality and that he had indeed passed the trial.
The coldness of the snow and the air made him shiver, and he realized that he was underdressed. The winters here were much colder than in the trial, and he wasn’t dressed for that either. In the past, that would mean his death, but now it was time to leave. Time to leave this cold world of garbage and head somewhere better. Thankfully, he had chosen this park for a reason. It was directly in front of the Intergalactic Terminal. And his new rank meant that he could enter it now, and they would be required to treat him in accordance with it.
That knowledge moved him more than the cold. He practically ran through the cold air and trash heap of a city as he made for the terminal. It was only two blocks away. The trial had changed his body, and he was easily twice as fast as before. So, it only took him a minute or two to get to the building. Even still he was relieved to feel the sun whenever it managed to peek past the clouds. The little flickers of warmth were precious.
As he ran up to the terminal’s entrance, he was gratified to realize that he wasn’t tired. It wasn’t a particularly long run but sprinting for nearly two minutes straight would normally get him to sweat. Now, his body didn’t even warm up from it. He climbed up the final set of metal stairs. One hand momentarily touched the stair railing, but he pulled it away as the cold metal practically burned his hand. His skin hadn’t pulled away. It felt like he had to relearn how to survive here. That wasn’t actually true, considering that he would be leaving the world. Today if he could manage it.
The staircase up to the terminal was small, and he stared at the somewhat large metal doors that barred his path. He had never been allowed in official buildings like this before, and he was especially curious to see what it would be like. The Terminal was one of the few buildings made without reused metal scraps. The entire building was actually mobile and had been deposited here by one of the more central sectors. Smooth metal plates linked together along the walls. The silvery metal didn’t scratch or stain despite their planet's weather. Despite its clearly expensive material, the design was plain and uninviting. It reminded him of a sealed box, one not even suitable for animals. There were no visible openings to the building, though he knew that entire sections of the wall would shift when something moved to or from the terminal.
Next to the metal slab that vaguely gave off the impression of a door was a panel for him to put his hand on. Only those that had passed the trial could even enter the building. This was literally the only building that worked like that since most people that passed were just going to use it to get off-world. He was no different. His hand fit snuggles into the strange film that was the sensor. It sunk into it; the semiliquid nature of the thing seeped between his fingers. A dinging noise was the only alert he had before the entire wall beside the scanner opened. The wall seemed to slide into itself opening a slit for exactly one person to walk through.
Instincts honed by a year of danger and battle made him leap away from the door. He nearly stumbled down the steps but came to a stop when he realized what had happened. Feeling more than a little like a fool, he quickly climbed back up the staircase and through the door.
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The building was not what he expected. It was kind of like a bank in that there was a glass wall that prevented him from doing much other than walk up to the only occupied reception desk in the building. Which was especially strange considering there were dozens of brown wooden tables lined up beside one another. People still used wooden tables? He guessed they looked nice, but it felt outdated at best. Trying to ignore the weird empty atmosphere of the place, he marched down a fancy red carpet, which stood out in contrast to the white of the building’s interior. Very literally, everything other than the carpet and tables was pure white. His shoes, which were definitely dirty, didn’t even leave mark on the floor.
All of this made the building feel weird. The feeling only grew when he saw who was behind the counter. It was a woman with red hair which curled wildly. That wasn’t the strange part. No, that came from the fact that she was sleeping, her eyes covered by a thick sleeping mask. He considered tapping her, but a noticeably thick glass wall separated them. There was nothing on the desk for him to use, so he settled for yelling when simple words failed to work. When the shouting failed, he banged on the glass with the side of his fist. Even that failed to so much as stir the woman. He looked at her again and noticed that her legs were propped up on the desk beside them. She had to be very tall to manage that. It gave him another idea though. He kicked at the desk beside him, hoping that motion would wake the woman. It worked and she slowly lowered the sleeping mask to give him a glare before replacing it. He was about to hit the desk again when she sat up and sighed.
“Fine, what do you want? Don’t you have to celebrate with your family or something kid? It’s New Years for Christ’s sake. Can’t you just let me sleep on a holiday?” Her voice was not natural. Its tune was obviously artificial, enhanced by some cybernetic. Which meant that she was likely pretty wealthy. He groaned inwardly, fully aware that he didn’t have a good relationship with the rich. He hoped for the best and tried his hand at being polite.
“Sorry about that. I don’t really have a warm place to celebrate or anything like that. I was kind of hoping that would be here or on the shuttle.” His eyes darted to his rank before he continued. “I’m rank 71, which I think is good enough for passage.”
The woman raised an eyebrow at him, before letting out another long sigh. Although she sat a little straighter now. “The shuttle is here, but It won’t depart for several hours yet. It’s unlikely that we will get more passengers from this world, but we are required to wait just in case. Since you are so young, I feel compelled to tell you why. Even the number one ranked individual in this world would amount to little more than a receptionist on one of the central worlds. Your pass to one of the schools there will probably just wind up with you becoming a slave to either a corporation or an individual.” She paused seeming to deliberate for a moment, before offering him another suggestion. “I would recommend traveling to one of the better worlds in this sector. You would certainly wind up with a better life that way.”
He almost rejected her simply because of the pitying look she was giving him. She had judged him with just this interaction, but he wasn’t prone to aggressive outbursts and actually considered her words. He realized that he had made himself a figure of pity, though, in his mind, he had just been honest. Moving past his hang-up, he gave the option some genuine thought. Going to another world and abandoning his ambition would certainly leave him on a far better planet and situation than he was currently in. Going to one of the academy worlds wouldn’t have that same guarantee.
Had the option come before he had taken the trial, he would’ve taken it without hesitation. It would’ve been unthinkable for him to imagine anything else. That changed with the trial though. He was different now. He wanted more. The power he had held, even momentarily, had been incomparable. A memory flashed through his mind. Countless people stood far beneath him; their gazes glowed with an admiration he had never seen before. He had led them to their deaths, them and so many more. Still, he craved that power again.
“Hey, kid. Where are you doing?” The receptionist's voice broke him from the trance, and his eyes widened as he realized what it seemed like. His eyes had slowly dropped from her face, and he shook his head as he returned to the conversation.
“Sorry, no I was thinking about what you said. But I can’t do that. I’ll still go to the Academy.” The receptionist didn’t seem angry, but a little annoyed by his response. He could understand it. In her eyes, he had just ignored her advice entirely.
“It’s not the Academy. For you, it will be…” Her voice trailed off as she flicked through some information.
He could vaguely make it out as her head bobbed up and down as if she were looking at an invisible screen. A cerebral implant too? Just how wealthy was she, and why was she a receptionist? He didn’t think anyone in this world could afford one of those. Her eyes paused, and she nodded triumphantly before speaking again.
“There we go. You will be going to Academy C in ring 3. It’s actually where I went. I will let one of the teachers know to look out for you. Right, what’s your name? And show me your status screen if you would. I need to confirm your rank as well as input your starting position and grade.” Her tone hadn’t changed, probably because of her cybernetic, but her words definitely seemed out of place. Why was she being so nice all of a sudden? He couldn’t just trust her; it didn’t make any sense. Memories of people he had betrayed, and those who had betrayed him, rose unbidden to his eyes. He pushed them down. This wasn’t the trial, and she didn’t have a reason to do anything bad to him.
“Why? I mean why are you helping me? Do I need to show you, and how do I show you it anyway?” He said the words with a calculated amount of hesitation, hoping that it would sound like it was because he was afraid rather than mistrustful.
“If you open the information message, you can just imagine it becoming visible to me. And yes, I need to see it. As for why I’m helping you, I came from this world too. Went to one of the academies and succeeded. And look where I wound up. I had gotten a single damn demerit. It should’ve only amounted to a week of isolation or extra classes. Instead, I got shipped here for a month of service. At least I got out of swarm duty.” She grew heated as she complained about the punishment. It must have been a mistake because she quickly corrected her tone and expression. “The academy won’t be a kind place for you either, but I guess I can’t dissuade you. If I can’t stop you, I can at least do this much to help. My conscience is clear this way.” She said the final words with a bland, humorless smile.
He nodded, satisfied with that reasoning although he suspected she was leaving something out. It was honest enough for him, to agree to the otherwise suspicious offer of aid. “Thanks. Here’s the information.” As he spoke, he made the screen visible to her as she had stated.
He regretted it almost immediately as she sprung to her feet in an impossibly quick motion. He could barely track her movements as she pulled her mask down to stare at him. She looked like she wanted to leap through the glass wall.
“How did you get a recognition like that? Why is your rank so low with two gifts and a recognition? You should easily be one of the top students. Your rank should be near the top in a world like this. This doesn’t make sense.” She was shouting, a tirade of impossible-to-understand words shooting from her mouth like dragon fire.
He could barely understand any of it. What he did understand, told him that he should’ve hidden his information after all. The worst part of it all was that he needed her. He couldn’t just leave. This planet didn’t have another way off-world. Instead, he hunched his shoulders protectively, attempting to cower a little under her fervent gaze. It was a calculated gesture; one he had trained on the streets long ago. It came in handy when dealing with adults who liked to pretend to be good. She visibly winced and plopped back into her seat. She didn’t grab her mask again, and he could see that her eyes had been altered too. A faint red light leaked through the depths of her pupils.
“Sorry, I was really startled.” She apologized as she calmed down, though her eyes still flashed with visible desire. He shivered as she continued to speak. “Your situation is unusual, to say the least.” She paused for a few seconds. Her gaze darted to her own screen before she seemed to resolve herself for something. “Make me a knight, or whatever the equivalent is for an emperor. I will hide part of your status screen if you do. I’m in a position where I can save you a lot of grief.”
He was sure that she was intentionally telling him half of the relevant information. It had officially reached the point of being annoying. He didn’t have any other options though and muttered a single word in annoyance. “Explain.” He remembered his position a second later and forced out another word. “Please.” In his mind, he portrayed the perfect amount of hostility.
Her eyes narrowed, sharpening her gaze into a knife that seemed to stare past his face. “In the same way you showed me your screen, you can offer me a recognition in accordance with yours. Any class-based recognition can offer people recognitions of a lesser class.” Her words weren’t cold but had returned to the kind inviting one from earlier. It made her next words even more chilling. “Killing you would probably get someone a recognition too. One along the lines of Emperor Slayer, or something.”
If that was true, then why did he get the Emperor? His recognition was definitely not normal, which might also explain his rank. He didn’t miss the other meaning behind her words. The implication of murder wasn’t something he could ignore either. He still didn’t know enough and waited for her to continue. She had paused to let him get the full meaning of her words, and he didn’t trust himself to speak until she did. The silence lingered.
In the end, he was the more patient of the two, and she continued her explanation. “You're kind of boring. But I guess that’s my bad. I didn’t mean to act like that. I just got caught up in the moment. Let me try this again. I won’t kill you. I just enjoy good theatrics and was trying to get a rise out of you…” She trailed off as he gave her a wither glare. If he could melt her with his eyes, he would. “Okay, I’ll just explain. I can’t actually do anything to you with this glass pane here. However, other people can and will. I would bet you get killed in your sleep as soon as someone learns of your recognition. I can withhold that information from the public system. It’s a risk for me though, one that could earn me an expulsion. If you give me recognition, I’m willing to take that risk.”
He didn’t trust her. Every single thing she said sounded like bullshit. She definitely would kill him if this glass pane wasn’t here. The desperate desire hidden behind her eyes was not something new to him. He met them, weighing his own options, and frowned. He was trapped, wasn’t he? Leaving here would end up with her killing him. Heading to the academy was accepting the same fate only a few months later. Stalling wouldn’t improve his situation, so he shifted his focus. He began thinking of a way to use the recognition against her. To prevent him from finding a blade in his back.
Naturally, his thoughts flowed to the emperor from the trial. Despite how she died, the emperor had extremely loyal servants. Even the ones she had beaten and tortured would die for her. He wanted that kind of loyalty, but how to get it from this woman? Memories of people and organizations flashed through his mind. Hundreds of people would die for his words, but he never had someone who would kill with just one command. Someone who didn’t need anything but his words. The emperor did. She had her personal guard. He considered giving her that, but that wasn’t subservient enough for what he needed. There was another option, and he imagined the prompt as he sent her the message.
Appointment as one of The Emperor’s Shadow Guard.
Reward: Grants access to Shadow Guard Gifts.
Grants: Random Related F-Grade Gift
Cost: Enforces the restrictions of the Shadow Guard.
She looked at the notification and smirked, raising one eyebrow at him as she spoke. “Shadow Guard? Really?”
“It seems to fit from where I’m standing.” He said the words coldly, no longer willing to play the weak child.
“Fine. It sounds powerful anyways.” She said the words happily, her voice filled with the satisfaction of a snake. Of someone who knew they were taking advantage of the situation.
Congratulations! You have gained your first servant. Elise Frien has become your first Shadow Guard.
As the emperor you can impose commands on your servants.
Gift (D): Command
: Impose your will upon your servants.
: The more powerful the command, the harder it is to impose
: It is a contest between your mental attributes
As her face turned from glee to horror, he acted quickly. He savored her expression as he spoke. “Do not harm me. Don’t even look at me.” He couldn’t help but smile as her gaze was forced to the table. As quickly as the grin came, it vanished. His head ached and he stumbled a little as the world spun. “Ok, you can look at me.” He managed to force the words out without vomiting. It seemed like even simple commands like that were a struggle. The strain vanished despite, the other command still being in place.
“What did you do to me?” Elise, he knew her name now, looked absolutely terrified. Some water had even touched her eyes.
He didn’t even blink at her, nor did he bother with pity. “What restrictions did you get, and what gift?” The question was also a bit of a command, and he paid for it. A migraine seemed to just appear in his head, and he struggled to read the information as she shared the information with him.
Recognition:
The Shadow Guard: You have been appointed the position of an elite guard and servant.
Restriction: You cannot harm the Emperor
Restriction: You cannot lie to the Emperor
Restriction: You will need to take revenge for the Emperor in case of death
: Failure to do so will result in death
Gifts:
Gift (E) : Shadow Strike
: Manipulate the shadows for a single powerful attack
: The strike will take the shape and properties of your weapon
He could understand her tears now. She would basically become his slave if he ever got stronger than her. The restriction explained why the commands he had made hadn’t taxed his mind too much. She already had to follow them, so his commands didn’t force her to do anything. He checked his own screen again, realizing that his new gift would change his rank.
Name: Cl03
Home World: Junkyard 07
Grade: E
Rank: 2
Physical Grade: 1.27
Strength: 1.0
Dexterity: 1.3
Speed: 1.5
Mental Grade: 1.4
Reflexes: 1.2
Intuition: 1.0
Fortitude: 2.0
Gift Grade: E
Gift (F): Emperor’s Personal Vault (Upgradable)
Gift (F): The Brittle Blade (Upgradable)
Gift (D): Command
Recognitions:
Emperor
The change to his rank was a small problem, compared to the gift information. His mind worked quickly. “How were you planning on hiding my information?” He felt oddly familiar with the situation now, and his words carried his authority.
Elise actually flinched at them. “I was going to hide the gift and recognition. I can’t change your rank or grade though. It will be a problem.” She sounded worried, probably because of her restrictions. That last restriction she had was a vile one.
He felt like he could remove it but wouldn’t do it now. It would serve as a good reward for something later. Nodding his head, he thought about how to get out of this situation. “Remove the Recognitions and the last gift. Change the Emperor’s Personal Vault, to just Personal Vault. And make its grade E. Is that enough to explain the information?” He felt calm as he gave her the instructions.
She nodded slowly, and he grinned in satisfaction. His recognition was apparently more valuable than he had initially assumed. And his first servant was already proving their usefulness. It didn’t take long for her to copy the information. She even handed him a kit containing a new set of clothes and a tablet watch for the Academy. With those things out of the way, she came down to the last question.
She spoke with horribly defeated tone. “What, uh, name do you want?” She had actually cried a little at this point, but he still didn’t trust it or her. His instincts were telling him that she was faking it.
“Does it matter?” He was fine with his name, even if was just a number that had been assigned to him. Most orphans got names like that and never changed them. He guessed that passing the trial had given him the right to posses one. The way she was nodding, made him think that it was important. He decided to ask her for some recommendations. “Any ideas?”
“Sheev Palpatine?” She said it with a smirk. He didn’t smile.
It was name he had never heard, but from her expression he could guess that it wasn’t a complement. A tiny bit of curiosity made him ask. “Who?”
The look of horror she gave him for that lack of knowledge, made it seem worse than recognition. He raised an eyebrow, but she shook her and grumbled. “It doesn’t matter, and no I can’t think of a good name.” She sounded more offended then sad now, but he just moved on.
“Let’s go with Clo Vilnius.” He was able to say it confidently, though the meaning bit at his mind.
His first name was simple enough. It wasn’t a grand name, but it had been what he had been called during the trial. He hadn’t thought about using it but guessed that it would work. His last name came from the Emperor whose life he took. The ruler that had unintentionally made him into one. It was appropriate in a sardonic sort of way. She just nodded and added to his information without knowing any of the memories the name brought up for him. He didn’t smile as his screen updated.
Name: Clo Vilnius
Home World: Junkyard 07
Grade: E
Rank: 2