He focused on not reacting, on preventing his heart rate from spiking while his mind raced. Did this threat apply to him? Obviously, it did, but it also didn’t. Every second thought spiralled back to the options he had been given after he had died. They were more nuanced at their heart, but for Tom, when choosing between them only two options had been considered. Oblivion or at least a wipe of his memories so his future life wouldn’t be plagued with regrets of failures. Or reincarnation under the proviso, that he would be given a genuine chance of making a difference in the competition. If his presence could allow humans to place high enough in the competition to prevent the spiral of humanity into extinction, then he would willingly try again.

That was his requirements, and he knew DEUS, and the GODs rarely made mistakes.

Him being alive, within the bounds of the ninety-year competition, meant he would receive that chance. That fact precluded him dying to assassins before he had the personal power to stop them. Such an outcome was not something that DEUS would allow. While the threat almost certainly existed, and he would follow advice to protect himself, Tom was certain that he personally wasn’t at risk, providing he did nothing stupid.

This was a case of being alert but not alarmed. But he was not naïve, Existentia was not a soft place, people died in it. He had died in the first year here, half of his friends too. It was a brutal, savage existence, and the competition made it even more so. If the assassins came, then there would be collateral damage and, while he might be protected by the terms of his reincarnation, those around him wouldn’t be. It was vital he kept his head down and not be responsible for the deaths of innocents because of his carelessness.

“Whatever,” the male voice groused. “The ritual you have just experienced has served two purposes. The first is that it upgrades your human bloodline. I’m sure you can all appreciate the advantage that will give you.”

Those words felt weird to Tom. From what he could remember, the human bloodline had been weak and barely worth the effort. The benefits were marginal at best, but that was not what the carefully crafted message must have been suggesting. The man kept going, oblivious to the confusion in Tom’s head:

“Second, the ritual unlocks dormant memories early for everyone over three and three quarters. By forcing the unlock, we can deliver this message before the dominant personality reestablishes itself randomly between the ages of five and six. When that happened at the vagaries of chance, most reincarnated ones had been identified by our enemies before they even knew they were in danger. I have to repeat this: you are responsible for your own survival, no one else is. Others who have reincarnated recommend that you let your most recent childhood memories guide your actions for the foreseeable future and only act out of character when alone in the various heavily warded locations throughout the city.”

“I’m impressed, Pete. Word for word. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you believed that Eden of the Green was watching.”

“I don’t know. With all the protections in place, I doubt it’s possible, but I’m not taking any risks when it comes to the top fifty freaks.”

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

Delilah laughed again. She clearly enjoyed teasing him and ruffling his calm:

“Are we done here?”

“Almost,” he sounded annoyed. “They added a passage.” He switched to his reading voice. “Now that your racial bloodline has been upgraded continue to focus on developing your fate usage. Experimentation is the key to greater power.” There was a sigh. “And we’re done. Kids, you don’t know me, and you’ll probably never see me again. I don’t volunteer at the orphanage, and that’s by design. For the next week, you’re in partial lockdown. In a minute or two, you’ll regain control of your body. As per protocol, all adults have been cleared from this area of the city. There’s a clear path to the orphanage, and there’s party food there to celebrate your new status. Please head straight there. If you delay too long, automatons may activate to herd you.”

“You are actually scared of her.”

“Shut up. Let’s pack everything and go.”

“Hey, Pete, it feels strange to leave them here like this.”

“What are you suggesting, Delilah? It’s protocol I’ve done this before. They’ll be fine.”

“But they’re kids.”

“Are you really proposing that I go against Eden the fucking Green?” He parroted her words back to her. Then his voice softened. “It’ll be fine. This is the ritual grounds. It’s probably the most defended place in the city. The rules, the protocols that you were so keen for me to follow, state that no one is allowed to observe them closely after the awakening.” He lowered his voice further. “They’ll be locked in the orphanage, and even parents face restrictions there. Those that visit too regularly get banned for an entire week. Adventurers who only swing by every few months are given a leave pass, but that’s for only half an hour.”

“And the regular volunteers?” Delilah sounded thoughtful. “Are they kept on to provide stability?”

“Nope. They get a forced week off.”

“The poor kids. This entire thing must be so traumatic for them.”

“The theory is that a significant amount of the assassins’ information gathering is done by getting into our brains. If any human identifies someone as reincarnated, then the aliens can, too. If we’re all blind, that protects them. Kind of creepy if you think about it. Having aliens scry through my eyes.”

“Oh, totally.”

There were the sounds of a sloppy kiss.

“Gross,” Delilah complained half-heartedly. “You can’t do that after what you just said. It’s like I’m kissing an alien.”

The man laughed. “Coming from you of all people that’s funny. I bet to you the idea is a turn-on.”

There was the noise of more deliberately loud kissing. They were, Tom realised now, exhibitionists. Yes, they were only kissing, but yuck… didn’t they realise dozens of kids were listening? Then again, none of the normal children were going to have the maturity to understand what they were hearing, and the amorous exchange was not because of them.

It was triggered by the idea of aliens watching them.

Once more, all he could think was yuck!

“Yeah, I thought so. We’re done here and you’re obviously in the mood. Let’s go have some fun.”

There were sounds of footsteps retreating, and Tom’s mind was in turmoil.

There were assassins out there, hunting him and people like him. From what little information he had, it could be gauged that the humans had reacted by putting systems and controls in place to mitigate the risks. But these were not perfect, and that was why hiding his nature was his responsibility now. He had to find a way to utilise his younger self to allow himself to blend in seamlessly.

But how? That was the question he needed to answer. The memories were there, but actually taking and using them as a basis for action was more complicated. When he thought about moving his arm, it was as Tom and not as Ta like his younger self had been named. There had to be a better way. The message that had been read out to him had almost confirmed it.

But what?

He concentrated his mind focused on the desire. Something had to be there.

There was a ding.