Pure artists, cultivators, organized themselves along a nine tier ranking system. Each rank was represented by a star tattooed on their arm by an official inkmaster, and the tattoos were regulated by an influential bureaucracy, the Starfox Guild. Anyone who attempted to alter or fake the markings to pretend they were a higher rank than they actually were would face stiff penalties.

To attain a one-star rank, Sunwhisper would have to display an affinity with one of the eight elements by using an associated technique. Ji Gomen had used a technique like that to create a small fireball, but not all elemental techniques were so obvious. Father Gomen had some healing techniques, and those were associated with water.

Sunwhisper’s affinities were recorded in his status screen. His element was metal, and his color was Gold. To earn his second star, he would have to learn an Ascendancy technique associated with the color of his mana, the same kind of technique Makoto used to attain his incredible fighting ability, but the scrolls Sunwhisper had memorized so far provided no insight as to how he could do so.

Makoto had examined his meridians, and declared that they were so thin it was unlikely he would ever be able to achieve a full star.

Makoto was wrong.

The men of iron had not been sent to a random universe. They had been guided by the compass Orobos had fashioned to bring them to the source of all magic, the Quintessence. Specifically, the source of the magical system envisioned by the Maker.

The affinities cultivators referred to were, apart from a few diversions in nomenclature, the same as those found in the mystical paradigm of the mechanoborgs System.

Whether or not he could advance as a cultivator in exactly the same fashion the natives of this world could, he could mimic their abilities with his own. The mana they used was the same mana he used, and the time he had spent with the scrolls assured him of it.

His fathers had designed him to be an infiltrator unit, so he could alter his appearance using the genetic material of the native population. But he was not capable of drastically changing his body mass, as the synthetic disguise was overlaid atop his actual body structures, and though he had been tiny by the standards of the men of iron, he was still taller than nearly all of the inhabitants of Fringe Town.

Secondly, the skin he generated would always appear youthful, as he lacked the refinement necessary to simulate the biological damage associated with aging. So while it was the perfect ability to allow him to take on new and reasonably authentic identities, he couldn't reliably disguise himself as someone specific unless they happened to fall within a very narrow range of height and age.

His linguistic and data processing functions were built in components, and he could potentially improve them, but he found that he was already well beyond what could be considered natural capacity in this locality. He felt he needed to focus on his weaknesses instead.

The people of Fringe Village regularly practiced physical techniques, and exercised their bodies to the extreme. The actual physical exercise, however, was secondary to their cultivation practices, as it was the mana they channeled through their meridians that hardened their bodies beyond the physical limits of mortal flesh. For Sunwhisper as well, physical exercise was meaningless. The Cultivation System his fathers had installed only allowed him to advance by absorbing mana.

Makoto had not been able to slay Sunwhisper’s fathers because of his fighting skills, though they were exemplary. He had been able to do so because cultivation had made him into something more than human.

Sunwhisper needed to increase his Dao Rating through channeling. As he did so, he would be able to convert the mana he channeled into increased statistics and new abilities. Betamax had been many times stronger than he was now, and Makoto had torn him to pieces. Cultivators were superior to heroes, that seemed self-evident, and Sunwhisper was already planning his advancement strategy for when he was able to ingest his share of the Soma.

Sunwhisper could choose to advance his physical statistics directly— his Strength, Constitution, and Dexterity, but to do so would only place him on the level of the lowest ranked cultivators, like Jammu and Father Gomen. The only viable path seemed to be to progress his statistics in such a way that they would complement the practice of cultivation, and the most basic technique of every cultivator was channeling itself, mana manipulation.

Sunwhisper’s core was atrophied and weak. He could learn martial arts, and he would learn much faster than a human student, but that wouldn’t make him truly strong. Only more mana, an expanded core, and more efficient meridians, would do that.

His nonphysical statistics were IQ, EQ, and Ego. They represented his computational capacity, his social acumen, and his willpower, respectively. Ego was also the statistic that directly correlated to the amount of mana he could store and process. Ego was the most important, but his Constitution score limited how much mana he could channel at any one time.

He would want to improve his Ego as far as he meaningfully could, while raising his constitution only as much as he needed to accommodate that growth. But the pace at which he was able to channel mana from the environment was painfully slow. That was why he had to have some of that spirit fruit. The Jin family would distribute their bounty soon enough. He resolved to continue meditating until then, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door to his room.

"Shishio?" It was Janna. The elder sister hadn’t shown the slightest interest in him before. She had treated him like a piece of furniture that she did not, herself, use. Sunwhisper had been comfortable enough with the situation, as he had no use for her either. What could she want?

"I’m here." He met her at the door. Janna looked very different than she had earlier in the day. Her long, dark hair was loose over her shoulders and studded with fragrant flowers. She wore one of her mother’s dresses, an intricately embroidered piece that trailed to the floor, slitted open on one hip to preserve freedom of movement.

"I was wondering if you were coming to the festival," she said.

Her demeanor was different from what he was accustomed to. She had been dismissive since the day he came to stay with the Jin family, but now she was looking at him in a very different way. Her eyes were very clear, very focused, but she was hesitating. Why?

"I need to practice channeling," he said.

"Oh," her brow furrowed, "I thought you couldn’t channel anymore."

"I believe I can improve."

"That’s wonderful." A light crossed her face. "You are full of hidden treasures. I don’t wish to hinder your cultivation, but you fought hard today, and you deserve this celebration as much as any of us. Won’t you join me?"

Sunwhisper was uncomfortable, the change in her attitude made it hard for him to model her behavior. Still, it was generally true that he could only benefit from improving relationships with his foster family, and he could always channel after the festival wound down for the evening.

He bowed, "I would be honored."

She returned the gesture.

"Join me outside when you are ready."

Sunwhisper did not have special attire for the festival, but he changed out of the robes he had been wearing during the Reaping and put on the light linen of an initiate cultivator after scrubbing himself quickly with water. His synthetic form did not produce biological waste of the same quantity and type that a human body would, but if he did not wash he would begin to smell like copper and burnt carbon.

Janna was waiting for him in front of the house, while the rest of the siblings had already gone to the town center. She took his hand, and they strolled together under the lamplight.

"You saved Suna today. She would not have gotten away without you."

"The Jin family is my family, it is only right."

"Still, for someone with your condition to face a cultivator like Father Gomen without fear…it was not what I expected."

Sunwhisper was not sure what the handholding signified, so he let hers slip out of his. "It was my duty, and I always wish to improve my condition."

"I hope father changes his mind about you."

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"What do you mean?"

"Oh," Janna looked away. "I spoke out of turn. Please, pretend I said nothing." Sunwhisper didn’t push the issue. The girl was behaving especially erratically that night, and he didn’t want to disturb her further. No doubt the day had been stressful for her. As far as Father Jin, of course, he was hosting Sunwhisper out of respect for the border guardian, not out of kindness. Maybe Janna wanted her father to accept him more as a part of the family because of how he had helped her during the harvest.

The town center was alight with colorful paper lanterns that illuminated music and laughter, games and songs. This world had no moon, but the sky was full of pale analogs to stars that Sunwhisper suspected were a species of bioluminescent mushrooms growing inside the Tree of Heaven.

For the most part, the world was earth-like, with many of the same features, flora and fauna, so much so that it was almost possible to forget that they were not riding on a round planet circling a star in space, but actually living in a cavity on the side of the Tree of Heaven.

The people here knew this, and it was not strange to them. In Makoto’s scrolls, the world itself was sometimes identified by a word that translated literally to "Hollow," which could only refer to their place in the divine tree.

The entire community had turned out for the Reaping Festival, even those families that had lost loved ones to the harvest. They were the most honored, and received gifts from the more successful families to soften the burden that such a loss entailed. Some of the town’s share of the harvest also went into a fund to support suffering families, so Father Jin did not feel a need to personally contribute that way, and in any case he did not have as much to give as some.

Sunwhisper saw the other Jin children, as they mostly stuck together, and Jammu waved to Janna as they approached. He did not acknowledge Sunwhisper directly.

"You look beautiful," he said. "No wonder you took so long to arrive."

Janna gave the slightest of bows, little more than a nod. "Thank you, elder brother. I wanted to make sure that Shishio could enjoy this night with us."

Jammu grunted. "They are having a boulder toss, did you see? I think I will compete."

"Show them how strong the Jin are," Janna said, and Jammu went away with his brothers to compete in the festival games.

"I apologize," Janna said.

"For what?" The strength games were interesting to Sunwhisper, not because he wanted to compete, but because they were an excellent way to gather data on the relative physical prowess of cultivators at different stages of advancement. He had been about to follow Jammu.

"For my brother’s rudeness."

"Ah," Sunwhisper had not noticed he was being disrespected. "I’m sure he means well."

"He feels shame that he could not protect us from Father Gomen, that you were the one to do so."

"He fought Gomen Ji and the others, and he was victorious. There is nothing for him to feel shame about."

"I agree, but the men of my family can be prickly in their pride. Please do not take offense," Janna said. Her expression was earnest.

"I feel none." He didn’t. Though he had only lived with these humans for a short time, it had become apparent to him that they experienced the world differently than he did. Their emotions were so tied up in their motivations that it was difficult to tell one from the other. Sunwhisper wondered what it would be like if he was that way. After all, witnessing the murder of one’s family was the sort of thing that would have sent Jammu into a rage, or broken Janna’s heart, so that she was unable to go on. They didn’t know what he had experienced, and in the long view, it didn’t matter. He had his mission, and he would complete it to the best of his ability. Emotions did not need to come into the equation. Janna seemed to sense some of this about him, but she misattributed its source.

"You are so different from so many of the men here, in such control of your emotions. It makes you seem much older than you are, maybe it is because of the time you spent in the Middle Kingdom." On some level, maybe she understood that the mechanoborg way was better. He had an EQ score, and even at minimum rank, it appeared that he was better equipped to handle emotional situations than humans. His fathers had not experienced emotion at all.

"I don’t think that is the reason."

"What is it like?"

"What?" For some reason, Sunwhisper found himself replaying Optus’s last moments yet again. That couldn’t be what she meant. She knew nothing about what he had lost. The truth was, he did feel something, but it was hard to put a name to what it was. Preoccupation. He was sometimes preoccupied with thoughts about his family, his tribe, even though they were gone and no longer served a purpose.

"The Middle Kingdom. I have often thought of leaving Fringe Town, of seeing the world. I am envious of the things you must have seen." They walked along the edge of the town center together, listening to snatches of merriment and song, while Sunwhisper considered his answer.

"Crowded," he said at last.

"What?"

"The Middle Kingdom is crowded." This was something all the scrolls agreed upon.

"That isn’t something I had considered. Isn't it true that cultivators above three stars have lands of their own, and palaces, and even whole towns that owe them fealty?" Sunwhisper wasn’t sure if this was correct, but he saw no reason not to humor her.

"Yes, but for people like us, it would be crowded."

"That’s true." Janna was thoughtful. "When you dream of seeing the world, you dream of being a person of influence and wealth, not a bumpkin from Fringe Town. They would see me gawking at their palaces and laugh."

"That isn’t true," Sunwhisper said.

"You think so?"

"Yes, it is doubtful that any immortals or other august personages would notice you at all, given your low status."

Janna was silent for long moments.

"I suppose you are right, young master."

"Janna, look at you!" A young man from the Kuko family exclaimed as he approached them. "You are radiant as moonlight on the snowy mountaintops."

Janna blushed. "You are too kind."

"I am not kind enough,” his eyes flickered past Sunwhisper, hardening for a moment, “and who is your friend?"

"This is Shishio, Makoto’s cousin. He is staying with my family." Though she was talking about him, Janna appeared to have all but forgotten Sunwhisper was there.

"Honored to meet you," the Kuko boy bowed. "Would you be offended if I asked Janna to dance with me?"

"He wouldn’t be," Janna answered as Sunwhisper shook his head. She was gone in a swirl of her dress, leaving Sunwhisper to wonder if he had done something wrong. He felt that her attitude had changed again, but he wasn’t sure how or why. No doubt it was due to the unpredictable fluctuations of her hormones. He was lucky to have such a deep understanding of their experience without having to suffer it himself.

Alone, he took the opportunity to watch the various competitions, stone throwing, wrestling and races, noting the positions that cultivators took relative to their status and advancement. It was not as straightforward as he would have guessed. Anyone with a star was unequivocally above anyone without a star, but the competition self-sorted so that those without rank only competed with those without rank, and so on.

Within categories, the differences were not as obvious. Some cultivators were strong, but not fast. All were tough, but some were remarkably so. It depended on the techniques they studied, and even the kind of channeling meditations they used. Sunwhisper only knew one method of channeling, one meant for small children, but there were many more methods than there were elements, and each method would have a distinct influence on the performance of the cultivator who used it.

Only a part of his mind could be occupied by these observations, however, as another part was continually and unhelpfully rehashing the battle between his fathers and the border guardian. That part didn’t have any useful goals, it just kept asking why he hadn’t done more. Why had he just stood there while his family died? When he thought about these things, he felt annoyed. Annoyed that he kept thinking about them, even though he didn’t want to. Annoyed that they had happened. He should have been able to redirect that processing power down a more useful channel, but for some reason, part of him was stuck in a loop.

Sunwhisper lost himself in consideration and data collection, so he did not notice Gomen Ji until the young man was close enough to wrap an arm around his throat.

"Don’t scream," Gomen Ji whispered, "you would shame yourself."

His grip was so tight Sunwhisper doubted he could have screamed if he tried. While he would never die from suffocation, and would merely enter a stasis mode if denied oxygen for a sufficient length of time, it was still very uncomfortable to be choked. The other Gomen sons closed in, blocking what was happening from the view of the other festival goers. They hustled him from the square and into an alley between two shops.

"My father is recovering," Gomen Ji said.

"That is…excellent," Sunwhisper managed to say before one of them punched him in the gut.

They sported bruises from earlier in the day, but most of the injury they had suffered had been to their pride. Jammu and his brothers had won only because success for them had meant to delay the chase, not completely incapacitate their opponents.

The Gomen sons were strong. The stars on their arms meant they could have killed Sunwhisper with little effort if they chose, but like their father, they respected the Makoto family, and were wary of incurring a blood debt to the border guardian.

Gomen Ji let him go, a strange look upon his face. By grappling with Sunwhisper, he had undoubtedly gotten some sense of how dense he was. His bones were steel, and his muscles were manufactured cabling. A cultivator might be able to tear steel with his hands, but he would still know the difference between metal and flesh. Uncertainty flickered in Gomen Ji’s eyes, but rather than fighting back, Sunwhisper simply tried to extricate himself from the situation by slipping between the trio.

It was the wrong response. Recognizing that Sunwhisper would not challenge him directly, Gomen Ji forgot his concerns and kicked the legs out from under him.

"A weakling like you should have never been able to shame our father."

"I meant no disrespect," Sunwhisper had fallen hard, and when he moved to rise, he was kicked again.

"You are a worm in the anus of a dog," Gomen Ji said.

They beat him until he stopped moving.