Soldier 17 slowly opened his eyes to the harsh glare of sterile white lights. The smell of antiseptic hung in the air, and the silence in the room was oppressive. The infirmary of The Facility was a stark contrast to the training grounds. The walls were a clinical shade of white, and the lack of adornments made the room feel cold and impersonal. The bed he lay on was a simple, unadorned slab, and the only other features in the room were the diagnostic equipment and a small table with medical supplies neatly arranged.
As his senses adjusted, Soldier 17 took note of the footsteps approaching his bedside. He instinctively assessed the BPM of the approaching nurse's heartbeat. A female figure in a crisp white uniform came into view. Her steps were precise, and her presence exuded a calm efficiency. Soldier 17 registered the details, not out of curiosity, but as a habitual part of his training.
"Good evening, Soldier 17," the nurse said, her voice clinical and devoid of emotion. "I am Nurse. How are you feeling?"
Internally, Soldier 17 continued to assess his own condition. "I am functional," he replied in his usual monotone.
Nurse nodded, and without missing a beat, she began her examination. She checked his vitals, reviewed the readings on the diagnostic equipment, and made occasional remarks about his physique as if commenting on a piece of machinery.
"Your cellular regeneration is functioning at optimal levels. Impressive," she commented while checking the readout.
Soldier 17 remained stoic, acknowledging her words without expressing any emotional response. As Nurse continued her examination, she explained the events that followed after he passed out in the training room. She detailed the procedures they had taken to stabilize him and ensure his well-being.
When the diagnostic results came back clear, Nurse instructed him to proceed to a private debriefing cell. The cell was as sterile and featureless as the infirmary. The gray walls seemed to absorb any hint of warmth or life. The room was devoid of furniture, except for a simple chair placed in the center.
As Soldier 17 sat in the drab room, he observed the one-way mirror that dominated one wall. His shadow curled and writhed like barely contained smoke, a subtle movement that escaped his notice. The room's emptiness mirrored the void within him – a void that housed memories, experiences, and emotions carefully compartmentalized.
Soldier 17 paused for a moment before beginning to explain the flashes of images and experiences he had witnessed before passing out. He recounted the collapsing columns, the burning wood, and the acrid scent of burnt cedar. The memories seemed disjointed, yet the intensity lingered.
Once he finished his concise account, a crackle from the unseen intercom in the one-way mirror signaled that he could leave the cell. The mechanical voice instructed him to return to the barracks. Soldier 17 stood up, and with his usual efficiency, he left the sterile confines of the debriefing cell.
On his way back to the barracks, Soldier 17 continued to replay the strange memories in his head. The shadow trailing behind him curled and twisted, a subtle dance of darkness. Unbeknownst to him, his own aura responded to the enigmatic images that lingered in the recesses of his mind.
17 sat on the small cot of his room in the barracks staring at his shadows on the floor. He hadn’t been aware of it earlier during the debrief or his walk back to his room but now it was unmistakable. Something was very wrong with his shadow. The circular pool at his feet was silently boiling and rolling over like a bundle of snakes. The usually smoky wisps and tendrils were replaced with angry twisting vines. 17 closed his eyes as he took a deep breath and tried once again to command the shadows.
He felt his aura pulse gently as he called upon his Authority of Shadows. He felt a piece of himself stretch like a piece of elastic string out towards his shadow. Normally, this process was nearly instantaneous, but the calm cadet took care with the procedure. After what felt like minutes stretched into hours, 17’s Aura finally met the chaotic twitching mass of darkness and his vision exploded. Just as before, flames licked at his heels and smoke invaded his every pore with an acidic sting. Shadows leaked out of his eyes in a highly disturbing simulation of smoking tears.
Despite all his training, panic gripped his chest and flooded his veins with ice. He abruptly cut off his Authority and the sensation immediately disappeared. Once again, the stoic cadet sat perfectly calm as if the entire sensation never happened. This was a problem. For normal people, this would be the point some might panic due to loss of control. Fortunately, 17 wasn’t like normal people. He already knew the Authority of Shadows wasn’t an ability that came naturally to him.
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The Facility called abilities like his “inherited.” Contradictorily, these types of abilities aren’t gained from genetics but through contact with foreign dimensional planes of existence or their energy. The reason they’re called inherited is because of the nature of Authorities. Even without connecting to them, 17 could feel every shadow in his room and even quite a few just outside his door. An Authority, in simple terms, is a bond of will with a dimensional plane. What made him stranger than most beings with access to the gift was that usually only beings from the same plane could form a proper connection.
When pulled from their domain, wind elementals appeared as tornadoes of various sizes and could call up wind and lightning as easily as breathing. They were as much a part of the wind as they were controlling it. Humans could mimic this control of the elements with mana and various spells or equipment but 17 had no such skills. He had been born with no mana. The mana channels in his body seemed much larger than most but for whatever reason, they simply didn’t collect it at all. 17 shook his head clear of thoughts of mana and magic. In his experience with missions involving mystic mercs and mages, magic was dangerous but easily countered by a well-placed knife to the throat.
He didn’t have mana so the subject didn’t matter to him outside of counter-tactics. 17 stood up from the bed and listened to the soft low pulse of the wriggling shadows. His thoughts drifted back to the day he first gained the strange Authority. As the memories took a firmer hold, he found himself sinking into a trance as the shadows slowly snaked up his legs.
Memory Log: C-18, 1500 hours
Cadet 17 found himself within the confines of the Facility undergoing a series of diagnostic tests. Restlessness crept over him as the days of examinations wore on, leaving him eager for a change of scenery. These annual exams were routine and expected but for some reason, today filled him with an endless excitement.
On this day, he was directed to the physical fitness lab for new recruits—a vast, high-tech gymnasium that stretched the size of two football fields. The cool breeze of the air conditioning provided a pleasant contrast to the grueling training endured by the subjects. Standing in the expansive space, Cadet 17 appeared fit, but his younger frame made him almost scrawny, especially when clad in loose-fitting clothing.
His light brown eyes, less reserved at this age, scanned the surroundings with curiosity, occasionally glancing at the various gadgets on the walls. Alongside him stood Subject 16, a slightly shorter boy with close-cropped black hair. Cadet 17 uneasily moved his weight, in stark contrast to the lively Subject 16, who exuded eagerness for constant movement and action, bouncing with enthusiasm.
In the present, the memory of Subject 16 stirred something in Cadet 17, only to fade away quickly. Returning to the flashback, the two subjects were informed of a quick physical before being dismissed. After what felt like an eternity, two blue circles lit up on the gym floor. The two boys stepped into the circles, and the diagnostic machines whirred to life.
Subject 16 remarked, "You know, we always end up together in these tests."
Cadet 17 smirked, "Yeah, like fate or something."
Subject 16, smiling nervously, continued their conversation as the diagnostic machines hummed around them.
"It's funny how they pair us. Do you ever wonder why?" Subject 16 asked.
Cadet 17 shrugged, "Not really. I just go where they tell me."
Subject 16, sensing Cadet 17's indifference, pressed on. "But look at us. We're practically the same size. It's like they plan it or something."
Cadet 17 sighed, "Maybe. It's probably for sparring. Balance and all that."
A brief flash of annoyance passed across 16's face, but 17 wasn't paying attention. Cadet 17 continued to focus on the readings, frowning at the one indicating the absence of mana. Subject 16, peering over his shoulder, examined the readings innocently.
"What's up with the mana readings?" Subject 16 inquired.
Cadet 17 sighed in frustration, confirming Subject 16's suspicions. Subject 16, with readings opposite to Cadet 17, consoled him about the empty mana pool, expressing a wish to share his own reserves.
"I wish I could give you some of my mana reserves," Subject 16 offered.
"I appreciate that, but I'll figure it out. No big deal," Cadet 17 replied.
The memory of Subject 16's supportive smile lingered as Cadet 17 agreed not to worry. The two boys, with a conspiratorial air, made their way to the locker rooms. In this hidden space, Subject 16 whispered about a rumor he had heard from older trainees—some special new gear that could absorb ambient mana.
"They say there's special gear on the lower levels. It can pull in ambient mana and make it your own," Subject 16 whispered.
Eyes widening in surprise, Cadet 17 listened as Subject 16 detailed the equipment kept on the lower levels of the gym, where experiments on elementals were conducted. Intrigued and now brimming with curiosity, Cadet 17 asked if they could go see the equipment. Subject 16, a bit nervous, expressed doubts about his ability to keep up with the more coordinated Cadet 17.
"I'm way too clumsy! You might have to go alone once we get closer to the bottom," Subject 16 admitted.
Acknowledging Subject 16's concerns, Cadet 17 agreed to proceed alone after being guided to the correct floor.