I sat in silence the entire car trip, idly watching the streets pass by. Most pedestrians kept well out of the way of the black limousine, fancy cars typically mean someone powerful, and in the slums, that means someone you don’t want to get involved with. Whether from fear or respect, people cleared the road for my entire envoy. People are funny like that, they gang up to prey on the weak with smug smiles on their faces but the moment someone does the same to them they throw a hissy fit; “there’s always a bigger fish”, or so the saying goes, though in this case it should be “there’s always a bigger school of fish”.

As I was reminiscing about how it all started – my escape from the labs – the car rolled to a stop and the chauffeur opened my door. I stepped out and took a brief look around before walking towards the front door.

The building looked like a compact military base, it was short and blocky but heavy set and difficult to destroy. This idea was reinforced by the armed guards patrolling the walls and the automated turrets protecting every choke point, they even had flak cannons on the roof which were probably guarded by several snipers in hiding. The entire building felt out of place in the slums; it was clean, maintained, and well protected while all its neighbours were crumbling and grey.

I must admit, they have an impressive operation running here. I understood that no matter how many men I threw into the place we would never stand a chance; the four bodyguards surrounding me were purely aesthetic. I could only be relieved that this was considered neutral ground among all the gangs.

This is where my instructor-to-be planned to meet us, in the depths of Omega, black market central. Somebody oversees the entire compound, almost half the black-market dealers in here work for him, yet not even they know who is in charge. There are lots of rumours about his identity, but there is no evidence of anything, people aren’t even sure whether it’s a man or a woman, singular person or a group of people. Nobody cares to dig deeper or challenge them since they centralise exchange, making it easier to secure trade and smuggle routes, and protects the secrecy of its clients.

There are a few basic rules in Omega:

1. If you shoot first then security will shoot you in return, retaliation is still permitted.

2. Those who fail to fulfil their promises will be forbidden from future entry.

3. Permission to re-enter can be granted if previous failure was either for a good reason or the client acknowledges whatever the deal as a risky endeavour.

4. Omega is neutral grounds; any factional disputes will be dealt with swiftly. Personal issues may be acted upon given rule 1 is not forgotten.

I finally reached the front door, a man in combat armour exited and walked in a wide birth around us as we neared the door. It opened automatically as we stepped within a few meters and revealed a security checkpoint. It was wrong to call it a security checkpoint since they didn’t check anybody, but they kept it around for the rare occasions where they end up putting the place in lockdown.

After we walked through the checkpoint we saw a multilevel maze filling the entire building and the ground below it. It spread further underground than it did above ground. The place was practically an underground empire.

Mr Wizard guided us to transport platform where he entered something into a terminal once everyone was standing on it. The platform then started moving along a network of rails at a fair pace, moving in every direction yet staying completely stable and gliding along so smoothly that you could almost forget you were moving when you closed your eyes. Eventually the lift came to a stop in front of a decorative water fountain that sat in the middle of a square surrounded by various large fancy shops.

A man wearing a suit without a tie was leaning on the fountain while smoking a cigarette. Mr Wizard guided us towards the fountain, as we neared it the man noticed us. After scanning our group his eyes stopped on me for a few seconds and he got up and approached us, he seems to be our contact. We eventually meet halfway and Mr Wizard greeted him.

“Long time no see, Craig.”

“Indeed, it’s been a while since I last saw you, time has not treated you well, Wes… What’s up with the pointy hat?” the man asked inquisitively, slightly taken aback by the accessory.

“I decided it was time to become a wizard,” replied Mr Wizard sarcastically.

“Pfft, that happened when you turned 30, you’re already a sage!” returned Craig.

“Perhaps, but it is in poor taste to overestimate one’s own wisdom,” finished Mr Wizard, both laughing and shaking hands.

“Still serving that arrogant prick?” asked Craig.

“No, he was knocked off his high horse and overthrown… in quite an entertaining manner at that. My new boss is immature but has unfathomable potential,” Mr Wizard informed him, sending a glance my way.

Noticing his glance, Craig gave a giggle while appraising me, “how interesting… And I suppose she also happens to be the runt you want trained? This’ll catch Jack’s attention for sure. Follow me.” I stared daggers at him when he called me a runt.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Craig turned around and started leading us down a street, calling Mr Wizard up front to catch up while he guided us to Jack’s location. Our lead was full of smiles and laughter but the rest followed in silence.

After a few minutes, we were led inside a shop, as I glanced around I noticed how odd the selection of weapons was. I wasn’t inside a gun shop, I was inside a weapons shop. The shop had a variety of old fashioned weapons such as swords and knives, there was even a mace on one of the shelves. This didn’t stop them from having guns on sale, they had every type of weapon you could imagine on sale.

I chuckled softly to myself as it Dawned on me why he chose the alias “Jack”.

< (He probably knows how to use every weapon in here, huh…) >

What a brilliant teacher, I pride myself as a fast learner so figuring out so many weapons shouldn’t be too difficult.

We approached the store clerk sitting behind the counter. She was an attractive woman, albeit a good bit past her prime, and she held herself like a seasoned soldier. Craig spoke to her and made several gestures, some of which singled me out from the group.

The clerk eyed me up and down while giving me an appraising eye, raising an eyebrow while hearing Craig explain something. After a couple of minutes, she closed her eyes and thought, nodding decisively before opening her eyes telling me where to go.

“Please use the door over there,” she said while gesturing towards a door on my right, “the Master will meet you inside, I’ll call him through. In the meantime, please wait in the room for him.”

My guides seemed a little bit shocked by something she said, but it didn’t seem important so I disregarded it and entered the room alone.

I was taken aback by what I found inside, there were stacks of weapons everywhere, all organised and categorised for ease of browsing. Scanning the room, several labels caught my eyes; blades, guns, and a mysterious illegible sign.

I approached the section for blades and idly admired what was found in the section. The further away the weapon was the larger it got, there was a shiv in front and a Zweihänder at the back. I leant over towards the Zweihänder in admiration of the sheer destructive purpose emanating from the blade. My admiration was cut short by the next rack, all the blades on it held an incredibly elegant presence and my eyes were drawn to the standard sized weapon on the rack, the katana.

I leant over the rack and gently picked up the katana, unsheathing the blade and admiring the entire blade. It was mesmerizing, it was an utterly beautiful weapon. I took some time to check the weighting of the blade and test how it swung before returning it to the rack.

As I glanced across the racks with blades I noticed how they were grouped, the weapons seemed to be grouped by origin, the first rack being European and the second rack Japanese. I couldn’t tell what most of the others were though, European and Japanese weapons are all people really know of vintage weapons these days.

I was about to leave the blades section when a pair of kukri knives caught my attention, I felt an odd affinity to the savage feeling they gave me so I checked them out. They didn’t interest me quite as much as the katana, but they certainly drew me in.

After I was satisfied with the blades it was time to move on, deciding to check out the guns next I headed over to the firearms section.

Only three guns caught my attention, the one that interested me most was the Mag Q22; a powerful hand cannon that was modeled after the old-school guns that all the mafia bosses in vintage movies used. You can do a lot of damage with a well-placed shot.

I was also eyeing the Switch Micro; a super lightweight pistol that lacks firepower but the lightweight frame makes it easy to aim and fire at incredible speed. One is worthless, but I wouldn’t mind dual wielding a pair of them.

The last thing gun I checked out was the Pulsar Verse, it was a super heavy pistol that bordered on being called a rifle. It had adaptable output and could fire plasma blasts like a pistol, SMG, shotgun, or even in a shockwave. It was a pistol for any situation.

Jack still hadn’t arrived yet so I decided to walk over to the illegible rack. The sight was odd, to say the very least. There was a piece of a brain being preserved in a jar and several physics text books scattered around the table. I didn’t understand the purpose of this display until I spotted a particularly telling book titled: “Pisonis, Volume 1”.

It made sense now, rather than being an actual weapon this stand represented something that was not physical. Pisonis are the power of the mind, manifested into the real world to achieve the Psion’s will. It is based on study and understanding, finely controlling the world to do your bidding.

After the discovery of Psi, researchers claimed that all previous suspicions of the existence of magic to merely be a misinterpretation of naturally occurring psionic powers. For some reason that statement feels wrong to me, but I can’t figure out why.

I started flipping through the book, getting drawn in as I started to discover the secrets of the mysterious force known as Psi. The issue drew me in, and every statement earned a small instinctual feeling of correctness or wrongness.

Suddenly a voice broke my tunnel vision.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” a man wearing a martial arts uniform with a few extra bits spoke up behind me.

“Fascinating. My very instincts respond to the claims made in this book.” I replied, stifling my surprise.

“Interesting, a natural Psion…” the man muttered to himself.

“Jack?” I asked, already expecting the man to be Jack.

“That’s me.” Responded the man bluntly.

“It is an honor to meet you, Jack. I-” I started to introduce myself but was interrupted by him.

“I know who you are and what you came here for. I’ll say this now, but the training will be hard. Are you up to the challenge Tiama?” The man inquired seriously.

I gathered my resolve and stood tall as I responded, “No matter how difficult the challenge, I will overcome it and walk out stronger than before!”

“That’s a good answer. Now, about your weapons…” he said, trailing off.

“I would like-” I started, but was interrupted again.

“I already know what weapons I’m going to train you in. It’s quite an interesting selection.” He said, grinning, “That was the first part of your test.”