Tom kept his eyes open to see if his adventure during the previous night had been noticed. While Dimitri hadn’t been seen at breakfast, later he turned up to take his usual lecture. There was nothing in his mannerisms to indicate anything unusual had happened in the early hours of the morning: no rushing, no hushed conversations on the side. He was as calm and deliberate as always. Tom had been watching during breakfast and noticed no changes there, either. He had half-expected there to be extra security, but no, it was just another breakfast in the routine of the orphanage. There were three volunteers, as usual, all of whom he recognised as regulars, and they had flittered around and dispensed help and discipline when it was required. It was as though nothing unusual had occurred.

Either that, or the general secrecy inherent in all the orphanage’s operations had kicked in. He had kept his eyes open for any signs, but there were none. It was as if it had been swept under the table, and, given the fate he had invested prior to going down the tunnel, that made sense.

To protect himself from any residual problems, he threw himself into his normal routines, and everything proceeded as normal.

The focus of the history class switched to people.

Tom listened for the names of his friends or even acquaintances from the champion’s trial. Keikain was the only one he heard raised, though. He was famous for a pilgrimage he performed every decade; that journey took him through each of the major towns, and more importantly, to the critical and strategic trials humanity had claimed. He would visit them, and they would improve. Dimitri explained it as a priest thing, but Tom knew that wasn’t true. It was him getting the most use out of a trait he had purchased in the contribution store after the tutorial. The decade that had to pass between trips was because of the abilities’ long cooldown rather than any religious reason.

Then, after a year’s journey, he would disappear for another nine years. The rumour mill said that he had sold his services to the alien species that guarded him on each of the trips. That interested Tom. Keikain doing something like that was beyond his expectations, and he wondered what he was getting out of it. Maybe a way to satisfy his bloodline; and, if he was refreshing the species’ access to high levelled skills, spells and classes, then also a further bonus to ranking points.

Surprisingly, he wanted to ask if Keikain was happy, whether he had moved past his demons. The sentiment shocked Tom, as it was totally unexpected. He had always thought he would cut the man out of his life the moment their cooperation for the greater good was finished. But apparently, despite the man’s personality, not to mention his evil decisions, he cared about him. It was probably because of their mutual drive to save humanity, and because Tom could see himself making some of the same soul-crushing decisions the other man had been forced into.

Discipline forced him to hold the words in. A thought occurred to him. His current situation, as a reincarnated kid, was as cruel as those forty years alone in a tutorial.

As cruel as, those words resonated in him.

“Fuck,” he whispered. Onions, plans within plans. He felt like kicking himself for not seeing it earlier.

She planned this; he thought. The tutorial, the weird selection criteria that favoured the ability to survive for years when isolated. It had made no sense to favour such traits in a social species, one that had risen to dominate their planet by cooperation. It was incomprehensible… unless there was a hidden purpose.

She always planned on reincarnating people. When GODs and GODDESSs were involved, things were never as obvious as they seemed. While existing in this state was painful, it was something he had been uniquely prepared to deal with. Ten years was nothing compared to the forty in the tutorial.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

The week ended, and he entered the trial once more. April greeted him warmly, then sent him away to train. It was a blur of blood, pain, and coffee. He was suspended in the void once more, enduring. For this particular session, ninety-five percent of the incoming needles contained precognition energy. When they struck him, he absorbed them, or at least partially so. It was hard to estimate, but he thought he might be extracting over half the power from them. Unfortunately, they still stung as they impacted, but nowhere near as badly as the other ones.

He blinked and found himself sitting in the café. He glanced around, confused. It was definitely like he remembered. Even the distant people at the other tables that he couldn’t quite focus on were there. Like usual, the unnaturally beautiful angel sat on a stool opposite him with the hard plastic table between them.

“What’s happening!” He demanded and smacked the table, confirming it was solid. “What’s the meaning of this? The schedule is skill training, combat, then coffee.”

The angel across from him smiled:

“A change of routine is always a blessing. And we should celebrate your progress.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed:

“This session I’ve barely accomplished anything. I still can’t absorb them.”

She chuckled again:

“Your capacity is limited, but it’s growing. I’ve been sending twice as many precognition affinity projectiles at you, and you’re absorbing significantly more from each individual needle than you had last week.”

Tom scoffed. In his core, he didn’t believe what she was saying. Yes, the number of precognition needles had increased, but his absorption of them was as terrible as ever.

“I’m still failing.” he told her. “I hadn’t stopped a single one, and they hurt just as bad as always.”

“Yes, they do. That’s a training decision you made. If I make it less punitive, your progress will slow down by eighty percent. That’s something I don’t think you want. Is it? Because if you’d prefer to go easy, I can lower the pain.” She pinned him with her gaze until he shook his head. “Tom, I’m serious. Most people I don’t even test at this level, and the very few who start it maintain it until the end. I can reduce the needle’s power. It’ll make the sessions easier and, honestly, in the greater scheme of things, a month is insignificant.”

He didn’t consider the offer for a moment.

“No. I’ll take the route that makes me the strongest person I can be.”

She smiled, relieved:

“Thank you for your unreasonable level of stubbornness. I don’t want to slow things down, because you’re responding really well. Your progress is well ahead of the forecast, and it would be a shame to change to something different and risk it not working. Do you understand that you’re four times better now than you were at the start of the last trial? If you do a full session of the same intensity next week, I reckon you’ll be able to move to the second stage. This is worth it, Tom. I guarantee you that this is worth it.”

“Great.” He picked up the coffee and was very careful to supress the tremors as he raised it to his lips. He took a sip, and it was scalding. He bit off the instinctive curse. “Do they have to serve it so hot?” He complained, and then deliberately smacked the cup down on the saucer. The liquid sloshed and a small amount went over the side.

April, across from him, arched an eyebrow, condemning his childish outburst with a simple facial expression.

He deserved that, but almost as quickly as he processed the event, he put her out of his mind and frowned. The change in routine and not going straight to combat worried him. He had thought there was time to battle the monsters and then finish another complete cycle. There should have been heaps of time. Him being here did not make sense.

“Is my time in the trial up?”

“You’ve got fifty minutes.”

He stared at her, trying to understand her angle. That was more than enough to have finished the current session, and then another one on top of that.

“Why am I here instead of fighting?”

“It’s not that complicated, Tom. You needed all your concentration to lift a cup of coffee. Do you really want me to send you back to fight the octolegs?”

He shuddered and remembered how the two of them had grabbed his arms and legs and then pulled in the opposite direction. It had been… It had been a bad way to die.

“Exactly my point,” she said, reading the way he had shivered. “Any further training will be counterproductive. Better to call the end now and refresh ourselves for next week. Tell me more about the outside world.”

By the time he left, he had calmed down sufficiently to act like he had enjoyed a lazy few hours frolicking in a pool while trying unsuccessfully to catch goldfish with his bare hands. April had even been nice enough to dump him on the edge of the lake for a few minutes to let him describe the experience in detail if anyone asked. Not that they would.

No one noticed how he felt, and he got through dinner and the evening without drawing any unwanted attention.