So you’re at that age. Your body is going through many changes that will make you into the person you’ll be for the rest of your life. You’re getting taller, your voice is changing, you’re growing hair in weird places and you’ve started noticing your peers in a romantic way. A few special boys and girls have even started getting… excited… in the Sun. If you’re reading this handy booklet, you’re likely one of those special few. Congratulations! You’ve manifested a Seed within your soul and can now start the journey of fulfilling your duty to the species! The first thing to do is take a breath and relax. Uncontrolled cultigens, even Seeds, can cause disproportionate damage to mundanes, so you want to keep any panicked outbursts to a minimum. Secondly, dispel any notions of revenge upon any tormentors you have. The power you wield is intoxicating, but it is very easy (not to mention illegal) to go too far when dealing with ordinary humans. Thirdly, register. Every Seed must register with the Guild and do their duty for humanity, keeping the Burrows at bay and making the earth liveable for us. Once registered, you will be taken for a psychological screening and aptitude test, in order to place you in one of the Academies worldwide (of course, everyone dreams of going to New London and who knows, study hard and it could be you). The strange feelings you get when you’re in the Sun is Sunlight suffusing you and strengthening your body and soul. The combination of the sheer pleasure of a Seed drinking in Sunlight for the first time and all the hormones raging around in your system create many “awkward” moments, but fear not, every legend and hero you’ve ever heard about went through the same thing. Florence, the Panacea. Juggernaut, the Unstoppable Force. Even Worldshaker.

* Excerpt from “Help! I might be superhuman! A High School Guide to Manifestation.”

This was a stupid, impulsive idea.

Musa cursed himself as he hacked through a particularly dense bush. He’d initially stormed off with nothing but a burning need to ensure his friend’s safety. He quite literally could not imagine a world without Mike in it. This need must have influenced his Seed, because he started getting directions from his power. Whether it was towards Mike or the shadow owl, he didn’t know. But he trusted his abilities. The high energy level let him keep his battle-sense-turned-locator turned up to the max, and nothing at his strength level could touch him. However, he was rapidly approaching the point where everything could kill him in one hit. He’d already used most of the precious Penetration empowered bullets, as it could still end most anything with a shot to the brain. One mistake though, and he was dead. Should’ve waited for Mr McLeod. Shouldn’t have left my map. Dammit I’m so dumb!

There was also the uncomfortable fact that his power helping him find Mike lent credence to his theory that Musa’s ability wasn’t precognitive. As thankful as he was, this very clearly was not reading the future.

Left.

Musa dodged a fiery ambush by a large squirrel with a burning tail that it used to rocket itself around, in conjunction with a set of skin flaps that allowed it to glide. He smoothly cut it out of the air with a sweep of his glaive, not giving it a chance to reorient and attack him. The two halves of the squirrel started emitting smoke in a very conspicuous way and he promptly left the area. Virtually every enemy was faster than him, this deep in to the Burrow and so he had to resolve all threats with overwhelming force early, or risk them simply outclassing him.

Forward.

There it was again. Instead of the instinctual urge to move, the voice guiding him to Mike engendered a “tugging” within his soul. As if he was being lightly pulled towards his destination by his very essence.

The large .50cal rifle was fully assembled and jerry-rigged to his back, as it was too long for anything else. He was loath to take it apart because having quick access to it had saved his life more than once. Again, he cursed the fact that he couldn’t imbue his glaive. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Going out with a mundane’s level of offense. Maman would be ashamed.

Unfortunately, he was stuck. He had no idea how he’d accessed this aspect of his power, and was afraid that if he did the smart thing and turned back for help, he’d lose the feeling and any chance of finding Mike alive. So he pressed on.

The entire forest was tinged green from the light filtering through the dense pine needles in the canopy, enough to see the brown and grey trunks of the massive pines with his enhanced eyes but not enough to drink in any Sunlight. In its place, he relied on the tainted energy saturating the forest to keep his soul topped off, but it would not heal him, so he was rightfully worried about his squishy Seed body.

Shoot. Down.

That was another new one. He’d always sparred with guns but the voice had never incorporated it into its warnings until he relied on the long rifle to put down anything his glaive couldn’t pierce. And it seemed he’d stepped into another beast territory, because the voice was telling him to shoot straight into the ground. He didn’t hesitate, trusting his ability implicitly.

The large gun let off its devastating shot, the bullet slicing into the ground with no resistance. Nothing seemed to happen for a good ten seconds, leading Musa to look around in confusion while he reloaded. Suddenly, a mole the size of a milk cow leapt out of the ground as though it were a breaching dolphin, the ground rippling around it like water. Three other moles, large, black with pink, tentacled noses and strange fins rose through the earth and surrounded him, waiting. He guessed that he’d killed the one that would have risen up below him, completing the ambush. As always, his Seed wouldn’t work unless he was in danger of imminent injury and apparently, being cut off on all sides by bloodthirsty subterraneans wasn’t quite imminent enough.

Musa rose the gun at the nearest mole, noting the two rows of jagged triangular teeth. He wasn’t too sure what they were called, as he had never read the Bestiary that came with his textbooks. Regardless, he knew that the brain is everyone’s weak spot. He aimed, trying with all his might to force energy into his Seed.

Neck.

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Musa readjusted instantly, and let off another booming shot. He dropped the gun and sprinted towards the mole. The bullet had punched a gaping wound in its neck, raining a torrent of blood and leaving its head only hanging on by a few strands of flesh. To his shock, those strands began multiplying as he watched. Fuck that.

He swung his glaive as hard as he could, strengthened by desperation. Luckily, he just managed to chop through the regenerating flesh, decapitating the creature. It was fountaining from its neck at this point and Musa was drenched in blood and effluvia.

Sit. Still.

Musa sat down next to the steaming carcass, crossing his legs as he got comf- Wait what. He had planned on making a break for it through the hole he blew in their formation, but his power had apparently overruled him. He turned his head, looking around for the other moles but they’d presumably disappeared under the ground again. Weird, I didn’t think a gun could scare off Burrow beasts. Or maybe it was me bathing in the blood of their kin.

Of course, they proved him wrong a second later by leaping out of the earth some 50 metres away. Musa’s eyes widened. I was never going to make it. These things practically fly through the ground. They swung their heads around, making low snuffling and grunting noises, with the odd chest-rattling growl now and again. They were looking for him. They sank back down underground, noticeably slower than usual, and stayed there for a few seconds before emerging around Musa.

Musa froze like a petrified deer. Not even because his Seed had told him to. The pink, fleshy tentacles on their snouts were writhing around, feeling the air as they searched the body of their dead friend. The thick muscles rippling underneath their glossy black coats were warning enough for him not to try anything. This was the only way his power had seen he could stay alive. A bit of blood dripped out of his hair into his eye and he blinked. Two tentacles on the nearest mole perked up and felt in his direction but relaxed once they didn’t feel any more movement. Musa wanted to let out a breath of relief, but instead settled on his heart palpitating a little less. I am officially in over my head. He didn’t know whether they tracked purely by feel, but luckily, he smelled exactly like the body next to him and moles were famous for their poor eyesight, so he was optimistic.

They kept him there, frozen stiff, for an entire five minutes. The entire time, Musa had been internally cursing the younger, more foolish version of himself that got him in this mess. When they left, Musa remained completely still for another five minutes, just in case. After he was absolutely sure, he let out a deep breath in simple gratitude for his life. Seed, I insult you often. But I may have misjudged you, let me apologise and we can start over. Of course, there was no response from his Seed but every bit of luck helps. He stood up slowly, painfully aware that the force of each step would radiate downwards and outwards, possibly alerting the moles again. He had no choice however. He picked up the gun and painstakingly made his way back into fire squirrel territory, where he queried his power and the tugging corrected itself to go around the mole domain.

Musa checked the gun; it having saved his life twice more. Only four bullets left. Okay. Awesome. This is fine. It was hard to be conservative with your use when around every tree was yet another enemy he couldn’t kill conventionally. He couldn’t even force a Florescence, as every fight was decided before his use of energy outpaced the energy flowing in from around him. And in the event he couldn’t kill the beast quickly, he’d be dead, so again, Florescence was out. What he needed was a way to put these beasts down at minimal risk to himself. The gun had served that purpose but now was relegated to last resort status to conserve ammo.

I need to hit harder. I should’ve waited for Mr Mc Fucking Leod! But he’d made his bed and Mike relied on him, so again, he pressed on.

He fought past the squirrels again. He cut his way through raccoons the size of wolfhounds that could turn invisible if they stood still. He wiped out a nest of otters that sparked with lightning on the edges of their whiskers and claws. And eventually, he spotted a shadow owl.

Musa saw red and quickly shot it out of the sky, succumbing to his rage and loss at the expense of another of his bullets. Fuck, that probably wasn’t even the one that took him. He knew however that where there was one, there were probably more. I can’t shoot them all down. I don’t want to be taken either, so I’ll have to play this smart.

Mind made up, Musa took the gun apart as it would just hamper his stealth, and strapped it to his back, under his vest. He’d scrubbed himself in the river after dealing with the otters, but he was afraid he still smelled like food. He went back to the river after a second thought and rolled around in the slick mud, thoroughly covering himself, then rolled around in some pine needles as camouflage from above. Okay, Mike, you’d better fucking appreciate this when I save your blond arse.

He lay prone on the ground and started crawling inch by squelching inch. The mud felt unbelievably gross but having been covered in blood and various other fluids earlier, he paid it no mind and focused on his goal.

A few of the oversized raptors flew overhead as he made his sluggish progress across shadow owl territory. They would pop out from anywhere, the shadow of a tree, the shadow of a bush, it didn’t matter. It made him doubly sure going stealth was the right move, as Mike had shown they could and would use your own shadow against you.

He crept forward, slow as a sloth, on his arms and legs, hoping to catch sight of the nest with his best friend in it. He was aiming for the centre of the territory, as the tugging had started pulling a little stronger and was a little more insistent. The dark-skinned man made his way all through the interconnected network of nests and owls flying to and from different trees. It all seemed so… peaceful. It was hard to believe these were the same creatures that try to slaughter humans en masse, often suicidally, when you saw them feed their chirping young. But Musa hardened his heart. They forfeited peace as soon as the Drasil formed. In a choice between one of their young and a million human young, they would choose their own every time. I must be willing to do the same.

He came upon a nest unlike any other, soon after noticing a definite increase in the number of owls flying around. This nest spanned multiple trees, expanding with woven reeds and sticks across the boughs. If Mike was anywhere, he’d be here.

His gradual progress came to a halt, as there was a humanoid body he could see near the base of the tree the palatial nest originated in. His heart started thumping in his ears and he hyperventilated as he could see the root impaling the body’s chest. The man was thoroughly dead, but it was unclear whether this was Mike or not.

Musa started forward again, itching to break out into a run and confirm, but realising that would only get him killed. His eyes gained a sheen as he assumed the worst, but as he approached, he saw the figure had red hair instead of blond. Musa almost smiled in relief when he realised he should still check on the person, to confirm their identity and possibly retrieve their body later on. As he approached, he noticed more and more irregularities. The root, despite bursting through the man’s chest, was not covered in blood. In fact there was very little blood at all, considering the state of the body. Curiosity piqued, he made his way forward, slowly but surely, until he reached the corpse. It was a man he didn’t recognise, in school-issue tactical gear but wearing a non-regulation beanie. Musa figured it had been allowed because it had something to do with his Seed and moved to take it off for identification. He froze as soon as he pulled at the hat.

The man was Elvan. And not one that had arrived with them.