Zed sat patiently, staring at the notification in front of him.

Skills

* [Bloodwrath (Mana, blood)].

* [Bloodlust (Aura)].

* [Force (Rune)].

* [Force shield (Rune)].

A part of him had been hoping for more skills. Actually, a part of him had been hoping that he would have developed more skills. He had been hoping to see [Fire Flood] added to his skills. He saw a lot of positive impacts it could bring if he could cast a compound rune in the blink of an eye. Sadly, he had no such luck.

Currently, he sat on a bunk bed, the only occupant of the room. The room was spacious but most of the space was occupied by bunk beds. The one he sat on was situated against one of the rooms three walls while the other stood opposite it. against the third wall was a small table with a wooden chair. It reminded him of the room he had stayed in while he had still been at the R and D institute of California.

He dismissed the notification with a casual thought and fell back against the bed. He laid down and let his thoughts wander as he stared at the bottom of the mattress above him.

He had been in the Olympians’ aircraft for three days now. He had spent most of his time talking with Oliver during that period. He had seen Festus only once, and that had been in passing. Festus had left no words for him and had said nothing. It wasn’t that the mage had been ignoring him but merely that Festus had been too busy to notice him, with his face buried in a book.

Ash and Chris had been absent for all three days and Zed found it surprising to note that he hadn’t cared. Oliver had brought it up at some point in time and Zed had waved it aside casually. He genuinely wasn’t bothered that both girls hadn’t cared to visit him at least once since he’d woken up, and since he didn’t know their rooms he had an excuse for not checking on them if anyone asked.

“Not that they would,” he mumbled to himself.

He remained lying down, slowly losing himself to his thoughts. When he had woken up, the Olympians had been looking for a blood mage. To be more precise they had tested him for an affinity for blood magic. He could confidently say he was not necessarily a blood mage. Regardless, he did have some skills that could make him mistaken for one. [Bloodlust] and [Bloodwrath] were clearly blood based skills.

He wasn’t entirely sure how [Bloodlust] related with blood on a fundamental level but [Bloodwrath] was clearly explainable. After all, he quite literally absorbed the mana from blood to achieve it. Judging by the fact that Daniel had taken the time to test for blood affinity, he felt it was safe to assume that a blood mage was not anyone’s friend.

Zed stashed the idea of blood magic and his relationship with it in some part of his mind and moved on to other worries. From the memories he currently had, the VHF and the R and D institute of California had one thing in common. In his memory he had not paid attention to a lot but now that he had time to think, he realized two things. One, the flag he saw on the Olympian armors were very closely related to the badge the R and D institution’s staff wore. The motto was also the same. It had been nothing but familiar when he had seen it on Kid’s armor but now that he had his memories, he knew it undoubtedly.

Where the VHF badge was an inverted triangular shield with stars in the background, the institute had borne skyscrapers in the background. But the mottos were the same.

“Pro homine et terra,” Zed said, the words spilling from his lips easily.

He scratched his forehead in worry. The action tussled his now medium length hair and he was forced to slip some of it back from his forehead.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

He was eighty percent sure of one thing. Before the second awakening, he had been a member of the VHF or at least a branch of it. He had been a child who’d been mentally thrown into simulation after simulation. Each time it had been into someone’s mind in some way. It answered the question of the distorted memories he’d had.

“What was it Doctor Tilda said,” he pondered. “They do it so that we better understand such situations?”

He was certain he was paraphrasing. Still, it was good to have an answer to where the memories were coming from. Thinking about it, however, it shed the Institute in a bad light. They had left him with memories that had bothered him for so long. He understood the memories of the Berserker and the soldiers. If he and the children had learned from those memories, then he could understand that they were training them to be soldiers. That left the question of what use the man with the daughter had been for. Was it to imbue them with some level of humanity? Where they designed in that way so that the children would not grow to be monsters?

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Thinking about it left more questions than answers, leaving Zed more worried than he was supposed to be. He was still rummaging in his thoughts when a knock came at the door.

“If I tell you to go away, would you?” Zed called.

Another knock was the only response he got. Tired, Zed rose from the bed and walked up to the door. The handle was a knob and he turned it. It was an odd choice for the aircraft. Initially he had thought it would be something with a keypad access instead of the knob and keyhole it used.

The door slid to the side and Zed was met with the face of two men he did not recognize.

“Good day, folks,” Zed greeted with a smile. “How may I be of assistance?”

Both men looked at Zed with different expressions. The one on his left looked at him as if wondering where he’d come from. The other stared curiously, like a man wondering what the new equipment he’d just bought could do.

Zed waited for both men. They said nothing so he decided to move the conversation along.

“Are we inside or outside talkers?” he asked.

Both men looked at each other, confused, before looking back at Zed. The man on Zed’s right spoke first.

“What are those?” he asked.

“Well,” Zed said theatrically, “it’s all up to us. Personally, I’d suggest going for inside talker whenever anyone asks. It shows class and decorum. Outside talkers are just the worst.”

Zed stepped out of the room and slid the door closed behind him. He’d left [Titan’s Axe] in the room, opting not to take it with him. The men that had come for him were dressed simply and unarmed, so he felt it would be odd to carry a weapon with him.

“So,” Zed continued. “To what do I owe the pleasure of getting a visit from…”

“Andre,” the man on the left said. He had blue eyes and short sleek hair.

“Now that’s a man who doesn’t look like an Andre,” Zed muttered.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing, Andre,” Zed answered then shivered. “Has anyone ever told you that it just feels some kind of way calling you by your name? Do you have a last name I could use by any chance?”

“Smith?”

“So you’re Andre Smith?”

“Yes.”

Zed pursed his lips in dissatisfaction. He had a lot to say about that but said nothing. It was not the man’s fault that there were problems with his name… Or maybe it was.

“Quick question,” Zed pressed. “Did you change your name when you were old enough, by any chance?”

Andre frowned. “No.”

“Are you adopted?”

“No.” There was a warning in Andre’s voice that told Zed this was not the first time he was having a conversation with a random stranger about his name. It also told Zed that he didn’t like the conversation.

Beside Zed, Andre’s companion was holding back a chuckle. He was doing exquisitely poorly at it.

“Hi, Mister Smith,” Zed held out a hand to Andre. “I’m Zed.”

Andre took the hand and shook it. “And no one’s told you that that’s an odd name?”

Zed smirked. “Its short for…”

He turned away from Andre as he let his sentence hang and offered the second man his hand. “Hi, I’m Zed.”

The man shook it. The handshake was firm, strong. Zed wondered how many points the man had in his strength aptitude.

“Donny,” the man said while his companion stood, confused, looking between his hand and Zed.

Zed looked at the man through narrowed lids. After a while, he eased up and let go of the man’s hand.

“Donny,” he mused. “I can live with that. The blond hair and the brown eyes. Yes, I can definitely work with that. So, Donny and Mr. Smith, to what do I owe the pleasure. Is someone finally willing to tell me where Shanine is and how I can find her?”

Both men looked at each other in confusion and Zed sighed. They clearly had no idea what he was talking about.

“Never mind. So what do you guys need?”

“Daniel needs you in section D,” Andre said.

“Section D,” Zed mused. “The domineering section. I wonder what he could possibly need my help with now?”

As he spoke, he turned to the left and started down the hallway. Both men followed behind him. The walk was quiet. If the men had anything else to say, they kept it to themselves.

Zed led them down the hallway. They took a right turn that released them onto a new hallway. This one was different from the rest. Where the other hallways were more of white walls and white lights, this one was something metallic. It was a jarring contrast to the other hallways. Zed was forced to stop at the sharp contrast.

“Who built this thing?” he muttered. “They have no respect for interior décor. You’d agree with me, Mr. Smith, wouldn’t you?”

Andre shrugged. “It’s just a ship.”

“Of course you’d say that,” Zed sighed, then continued down the metallic hallway. “I bet you’re one of those people that don’t care what the inside of their cars look like as long as it’s fine on the outside.”

“I don’t know how to drive,” Andre replied, matter-of-fact.

Zed shrugged and turned down another hallway. “Me neither… I think.”

He went down another hallway that released them into a junction. Here the paths diverged. One went left and the other went right. Zed paused there, thoughtful. Then he went right.

Andre snorted in annoyance and he fished a hand into his pocket for something. The sound stopped Zed in his tracks and he turned around to look at both men.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Smith?”

Andre shook his head as he retrieved a folded up bunch of rune-dollars and placed it in Donny’s hand.

“No,” he grumbled while Donny beamed in delight.

After Donny had pocketed the money, he turned to Zed with the most amiable smile Zed had ever seen on the man’s face and gestured in the opposite direction.

“It’s this way, sir.”

Zed looked between them, his lids narrowed in suspicion. “Did you guys make a bet on me?”

“Of course not,” Donny answered as he turned and headed down the right path. “Mr. Smith lost a bet on you.”

Zed sighed.

He followed after Donny. He patted Andre gently on the shoulder as he passed him.

“You really shouldn’t be losing bets, Mr. Smith. It invalidates the whole mysterious vibe you tend to give off.”

“I don’t give off any vibe,” Andre disagreed, shrugging off Zed’s hand.

“I see. You’re in denial. Probably grumpy from losing. Remind me to remind you of what I just said when you’re feeling less grumpy.”