Naturally, we didn't wait for the cruiser to dock at the pier. Public attention is fantastic for image building but detrimental to anonymity. Maya and I were the last raigs to disembark the ship, doing so after the mooring ropes had been cast off; the other Knights had left a bit earlier.
We bid farewell to the captain, expressing our gratitude to him and his crew. Then, already in the Break, we made our way ashore before the swarm of persistent journalists arrived.
"I think I'll head to headquarters," Maya commented, observing the commotion on the shore from within the Break. She referred to the BKDW building, which was nearly fully rehabilitated. "The sooner I start writing the Breakthrough report, the sooner I'll finish."
"Wouldn't it be better to do it tomorrow, with a clear mind?"
"No," she shook her head. "I find it easier when the memories are still fresh."
"Well, do as you please."
I shrugged and glanced at my watch. It felt like twenty-four hours had elapsed since my chat with Zanh Kiem, but in reality, the clock had barely struck midnight.
"Would you mind if I accompany you?" Not that Maya appeared lost or in need of moral support, but it provided me a sense of ease. "I'd like to write a report as well."
"That's not necessary for you," she looked slightly taken aback.
"Maybe not, but it's preferable since I'm officially part of the organization, despite not being an open Knight," I winked and shifted the conversation. "Did you know there's a new abbot at the Abode of Knowledge?"
At the moment I posed the question, we were leaping from rooftop to rooftop, crossing a four-lane road. At the sound of my words, Maya lost focus and nearly crashed into a wall, narrowly dodging a collision using Sliding.
"Who?" she asked, catching up with me after her blunder.
"You know him."
"Do I?" She didn't have many acquaintances who were Maker rank sensums, so she paused, unsure of who I was hinting at.
"The Third Palm of Retribution has been disbanded, and its leader has switched professions," I responded vaguely.
"Zanh Kiem?"
"Precisely."
Though Maya held Zanh in high regard, she was also slightly intimidated by him, so a flurry of emotions swept across her face in the Break. However, a prevalent sense of melancholy threaded through her various feelings. Likely, she was recalling Hyungang Tu Chong, the former abbot with whom she had a strong bond. Zanh Kiem would have to make significant efforts to fill such a significant role in her life.
Upon reaching the central square, we readily spotted a small cluster of projections on the roof of the BKDW building. Crixus glanced around as we approached, seemingly looking for a hiding spot. Realizing I had noticed him, he simply stepped behind the others.
From my perspective, there was nothing strange about his behavior. Even on the cruiser, he avoided eye contact with me. His reckless attack had led to our entire strike group being shot down by the lizards. Crixus was smart enough to realize that his actions had almost cost us everything. He was simply ashamed, so he tried to avoid me.
I considered two options. The first was to publicly scold him as a lesson to others not to repeat his mistake. The second was to leave him be for now, then privately share my thoughts without sugar-coating anything. With the first option, I could seriously damage his reputation and lessen Crixus's influence on the Capital Knights, which may be beneficial. However, I would likely lose him as an ally, and someone I could trust to watch my back. Politics aside, having a loyal sword nearby was more crucial in our current situation, so I opted for the second choice. As for mistakes... Everyone makes them, it's how we react afterwards that matters.
There were nine raigs on the roof, all engaged in a heated discussion, gesticulating wildly. Ungor was the most animated, angry about something, resembling a gnome in his armor who had been spat in his beer. The chatter subsided only when we landed on the roof.
"What's the argument about?" I asked, deliberately ignoring Crixus.
The former heir of the Corsican clan immediately noticed that the scolding was postponed and stepped out from the shadows. However, it was Kael, not Crixus, who answered my question.
"Do you remember the two newcomers?"
"Did something happen to them?" As far as I could recall, they seemed fine.
"One of them, who called himself the Feather of Justice..." I could guess which of the two newcomers had chosen such a pseudonym. One of them wore a distinctive cavalry helmet adorned with a giant ostrich feather. "Before leaving the cruiser, he approached me and said that the Breakthrough we repelled was not within the domain of Wilflaes... It occurred on neutral territory, and we were pulled in as the closest Knights."
"So, you're saying..." Maya started from behind me but stopped short.
"Yes," the girl in the gray brigantine nodded towards her. "This wasn't the capital breakthrough we were expecting in the coming weeks. It was, for lack of a better term, an 'unscheduled' Breakthrough, and we were just 'lucky' enough to be there."
"That is if this Just Feather is right![1]" Ungor exclaimed, slamming his palm with his fist.
"Why would he lie?" Thora defended her sister. "The rookie claimed he had the ability to clearly sense the boundaries of the Break Domains. What reason would he have to deceive us? He proved himself in battle, kept his cool, and even killed a couple of the flat-faced aliens."
"So?" I give everyone a puzzled look. "Okay, it was an extraordinary breakthrough... So what? Does it change anything? I want to remind you: the Breakthrough chart is something we invented ourselves, it's not set in stone. How and why Breakthroughs occur, no one knows. Perhaps tomorrow, we'll have to fend off five reality breaks in one day. So what? Shall we sob over our cruel fate and the harsh trials that have befallen us? Or will we continue to fight?" I cast a heavy gaze over everyone gathered. "Who are we?"
"The shield of this world," Halley answers, correctly interpreting my question. He speaks softly, but with a sense of pride, lifting his head.
"The Shield... of the World," I echo, deliberately emphasizing each word. "Has anyone here ever seen a shield bemoan its lot? No? Me neither." I offer a smile to lighten the mood, but then I quickly resume a stern expression. "Yes, today we lost Witold, but not to some monster or interdimensional slavers. We lost him to an accident. Remind me, how many Knights did we lose in the last capital Breakthrough?" Those who fought the robots then avert their eyes. "Thora, Kael, did you come here to write a report?"
"No..." the sisters squeak in unison, retreating behind Ungor's broad back.
"Rex, see the girls off."
"Sure," the guy readily hops off the parapet and guides the twins away by their elbows.
"Ungor, do you need a sedative?"
"No need..." The guy mutters, concealing his hands behind his back. "I understand... I'll leave, I won't disturb you."
Once only the open Break Knights and I remain on the roof, Halley turns to me and expresses his gratitude.
"Thanks, they were about to overwhelm me. I'm still recovering from the loss of prana, and my head feels foggy."
"Can you write a report?" Maya asks.
"I can, but it would be better to postpone it," he shakes his head in response.
"I'll also write mine tomorrow," Crixus quickly avoids paperwork when he realizes that he, too, had recently passed out.
"Alright..." Maya takes a deep breath, as if she was about to curse, but suddenly changes her mind and just waves her hand dismissively. "Go to sleep. Both of you. I can handle things alone."
When the two "heroes" hastily vanish from the roof, having received their dismissal, I say:
"Not alone. I don't want to sleep. I've almost recovered from the loss of prana. So I'll keep you company, if you don't mind, of course."
In truth, I feel a bit dizzy, and there are still fragments of the unconscious fog in my head. But, leaving Maya alone to fend off the curators doesn't seem quite right.
"I don't mind," she responds, turning away for some reason, and promptly disappears behind the door.
I follow her inside. The restructuring of the BKDW building didn't drastically alter the overall layout, apart from relocating a few walls and doors. However, the interior underwent significant changes. Having not been here for over five days, I look around curiously as I trail behind Maya.
Rooms that were once off-limits to outsiders had become highly modernized with technology. This was due to the relocation of the Rock's information and analytical departments to these areas, providing closer proximity to their charges.
The area designated solely for the Knights was completely isolated from the outside world, void of any doors or hatches. Naval systems, borrowed from submarine technology, handled air and water purification. The only way to replace cleaning cartridges, oxygen cylinders or remove waste was through the Break, a feature many deemed an excessive display of paranoia, for which I held a fair amount of responsibility, having suggested it.
After passing through the zone, restricted to all but the raigs, we entered a spacious conference hall. The large round table was currently unoccupied, save for a single individual sitting in an armchair near the projector, engrossed in something on his laptop. As soon as Maya materialized into reality, Rock, the raig curator from House on the Hill, put his computer aside and stood up. Not just standing up, he stood in full attention and saluted.
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"Congratulations on your victory!"
Maya returned the salute, and I exited the Break shortly thereafter. The curator, seemingly not expecting my presence, barely betrayed his surprise, with only a slight twitch of his eyebrow. We exchanged polite bows.
"Master."
"Mister Rock."
"Please, have a seat," the curator gestured towards the round table. "I have a general idea of the Breakthrough. However, as usual, I would like to clarify the main point: does it pose a threat to Novilter?"
"There's no threat," Maya answered in a slightly formal tone. It seemed she had already answered this question multiple times following past reality breaks. "The Breakthrough is localized and didn't have the potential to become global. The prototype was the fiction movie 'Flesh Dealers'."
"Hmm..." The title didn't ring any bells for Rock, and he reached for his laptop.
"Aliens arrive and abduct people on a cruise ship, several thousand," Maya explained, activating the touch panel on the tabletop.
In terms of tech, this room likely housed all the latest gadgets money could buy or the influence of the ducal house could secure.
"The protagonist, a secret agent, was investigating the theft of a megabomb by a group of terrorists at the time. The megabomb, naturally, was being transported on the very same cruise ship. Ultimately, the protagonist managed to transfer the bomb to the alien ship and detonate it. Everyone perished, including the aliens and the abducted humans."
"A peculiar happy ending," the curator shrugs.
"Yes, we did better," I can't help but respond after hearing Maya's explanation.
"According to Commander Tenian Criassi's report, there were no civilian casualties," Rock consults some documents before nodding. The shapeshifter then lifts his gaze, a heavy look in his eyes. "Who did we lose?"
The way he phrases it makes it clear that he's being sincere when he says, "we". Despite being a high-ranking shapeshifter, he regards us, the Knights, who were once ordinary people, as equals.
"Witold," Maya responds.
"The young man who quit the BKDW after the organization received threats from Eshin," a hint of barely noticeable disdain touches Rock's lips.
"He redeemed himself in battle," I reply calmly. "Even back then, he was scared not for himself, but for his family, his sisters to be precise."
"I remember," the curator nods at my words, clearly unconvinced.
"He was likely one of the Knights whose personal details were known to the special services, considering he was afraid for his family," I explain further. "Otherwise, Eshin's threats wouldn't have bothered him so much."
"That's correct..." Rock replies reluctantly.
"We would like to have access to this data so we can support his family."
"Don't worry. We will cover all expenses and compensate accordingly. Witold's sisters will receive the best education tailored to their abilities and will want for nothing until they come of age."
In my home world, I would repeat my request. Here, doing so would be seen as an insult. It would show doubt in the ability of a service directly reporting to the heir to fulfill its promises, thereby insulting not only Rock but also the heir directly. A class society with its etiquette is rather complicated for someone like me who grew up in relative equality. If not for Izao's memories guiding me, my loose tongue would have landed me in trouble more than once.
However, this class structure has its benefits. For instance, when a noble makes a promise, they take the fulfillment of that promise very seriously. Granted, there are exceptions, but they mostly apply to the marginalized and stigmatized minority, as well as to the lowly clans. But it's important to remember that nobles rarely make direct promises to commoners, as they believe "such honor isn't worth it." So, I simply nod at the curator, effectively closing the topic.
While Maya hammered out a quick report, Rock and I were embroiled in a discussion about the recent evacuation of the Knights. The curator was eager for details and open to even the far-fetched suggestions. Generally, I found it uncomplicated to work with him, as well as with other personal representatives of the heir. They were the sort of people who prioritized results over pomp and circumstance, or needless paperwork. For instance, Rock genuinely cared for each raig.
However, I never lost sight of Zanh Kiem's words that Rock's concerns could be likened to a wolfhound's protective instincts towards its entrusted herd. It was a point worth remembering, as overlooking it could lead to grave errors - such as entrusting Rock with a secret that the House on the Hill should be kept in the dark about.
As we were debating the effectiveness of palanquins in concealing the identities of prana-drained raigs, the front door creaked open and Zanh Kiem stepped into the hall.
"Do I interrupt?" he asked. The sensum was dressed in a familiar orange kasaya, wooden sandals, and had even shaved his head.
The bald look suited him, lending an edge to his features and making him appear even more austere and commanding. If before he struck me as a falcon scrutinizing its prey from above, now he was more akin to a seasoned eagle soaring high in the sky.
"As the new abbot of the Abode of Knowledge, you're welcome to attend any meetings and visit this building whenever you wish," Rock said, standing up to shake hands with the Maker.
"Thank you," Zanh Kiem responded. Naturally, he knew perfectly well what he could and couldn't do, so his question to the curator was more of a polite gesture than a genuine inquiry. Turning to me, he asked, "Maestro, would you mind if I sat next to you?"
"By all means," I replied. I was tempted to tease him, but I remembered just in time that we shouldn't publicize our somewhat friendly relationship.
After settling into a nearby chair, the Maker turned his scrutinizing gaze on me.
"You're severely energy-depleted, Maestro. You need to rest," he said. Then, lowering his voice, he added, "Mr. Rock, I would strongly suggest that Maestro be put on bed rest. Immediately."
What was his deal? Sure, I was feeling a bit under the weather, but it wasn't that serious. Why was he insisting so adamantly? And why was he looking at me so sternly? I only caught on to the sensum's hint after he glanced at Maya and then shot me an almost overt wink. Clearly, he wanted to speak with Maya and Rock without me around. I didn't think it was about any secrets; rather, it was probably just more convenient for him. And he was probably right; I've noticed that Maya becomes a tad more restrained in my presence.
"Master," the raig curator from the Castle addresses me, "are you unwell?"
"I suffered from complete prana exhaustion while repelling the Breakthrough, just like Crixus and Halley," I respond, avoiding a direct "yes" or "no" while subtly covering for the other two's absence.
"Hm-m-m." He jots something down on his papers and quickly continues. "In that case, insisting on your presence would be inappropriate."
He can't insist anyway. These meetings, held immediately after repelling a Breakthrough, are entirely voluntary. Any raig can choose to attend or not. As far as I'm aware, only two Knights consistently attend these meetings - Maya Grimm and Max Kraas. The rest prefer to submit brief written reports later. I wonder if Rock's slip of the tongue is an attempt to subtly pressure me, to make me feel slightly indebted to him. Such insidious tactics are often how recruitment begins.
"Maya?" I turn to the girl.
"Sure!" She responds enthusiastically, waving both hands. "I can handle it!"
"Miss Maya, Mr. Rock, abbot..." I bow formally to everyone in the room and then shift into the Break.
If there wasn't another raig in the room, I might have lingered. But with Maya present, it would be odd to stay. So, I took the most direct route to the roof - through the ceiling.
Returning from the city center to the cave where I left Metatron, and then to my dorm room, I didn't encounter a single raig. This was understandable - after the Breakthrough, everyone was likely recovering from exhaustion.
Once in bed, I replayed the events of the reality break in my mind, trying to focus on the behaviors of Halley, Mersk, Crixus, and the twins. But no matter how I dissected the past events, I couldn't recall anything unusual or abnormal. The only exception was that the twins unusually kept close to Mersk, but that could easily be explained by their heightened curiosity.
I considered the possibility that Halley isn't playing games and that his strange "encounters" with the head of the Masks of Novilter are merely coincidences. But I also knew that such coincidences are rare.
Pushing thoughts of Halley aside, I started to analyze our tactics during the Breakthrough. Fencing lessons are beneficial, but less so than training for cohesion and teamwork. However, this type of training can only be conducted with raigs who, firstly, are proficient with a blade and, secondly, have enough time and prana to spare for additional exercises.
The strike group's three-pronged assault proved highly effective. If not for Crixus' clever maneuver, we might have dispatched those interstellar slavers even quicker. Admittedly, losing only Witold, we got off lightly. We hadn't faced adversaries whose ranged weaponry could easily breach a raig's armor before. We were lucky the battleground was in our favor, forcing the reptilians to close the distance and navigate narrow corridors. Had the circumstances differed, the outcome could've been far more grim.
Furthermore, one should keep in mind that for us, the Wilflaes raigs, this Breakthrough is sort of a "bonus" or "extra." The cruise ship encountered a reality rift outside th territorial zones of responsibility of any Knights, and we were simply called upon as the nearest responders. If the attack had occurred earlier, the Breakthrough would've been managed by squads from Manila or Hiroshima. If it was delayed a day, it would've been the problem of the Knights on America's West Coast.
If someone, Maya for instance, could hear my thoughts, she might've thought I'd lost my mind. Strangely enough, I found a small sense of satisfaction in how things unfolded. Why? Because these events shattered the capital raigs' assurance that Breakthroughs can be predicted. This works in my favor. When the usual schedule falls apart - and I have no reason to doubt the Creators' words, it will - the metropolitan raigs will be better prepared. The more daunting and challenging it is for us now, the more prepared we will be at the doorstep of the End of Everything.
At the doorstep... Why do these words keep echoing in my mind?
Right. Something occurred to me in the brief window between the starship's launch and my plunge back into reality. Despite my best efforts, I can't recall anything but a faint scent, similar to some hand cream. Likely, I was at the epicenter when the Break convulsed from the abrupt termination of the Breakthrough, and I got a glimpse of visions from the fantasy layer, where the space slavers retreated in panic. Perhaps it's a good thing I can't remember what I saw; who knows what horrors that alternate layer of existence revealed to me.
No matter how much I tried to convince myself, I still desperately wanted to remember. However, neither mental exertion nor Zanh Kiem's training sessions seemed to help. As before, all that remained of that moment's memory was a faint echo of a pleasant, light fragrance.
Speaking of the Maker, I wondered why he had dismissed me from the hall. Although, if he was playing at some game, he would tell me about it later, then there was no point in worrying. Besides, it was entirely possible that he had sent me away just to have a private conversation with Maya. Perhaps he wanted to persuade her to accept the "count's" proposal. Regardless of what Zanh Kiem was up to, I trusted him implicitly. Not just because he knew about the End and my true identity, but because I sensed a friend in him. Not just an ally or comrade-in-arms, but a genuine friend.
With some effort, I put those thoughts aside and returned to analyzing the Knights' tactics and individual actions during the Breakthrough. I made notes on who needed extra training or discussions, and who deserved praise for their actions. For instance, both Ungor and Maya needed a stern talking-to. Their impulsiveness could have resulted in much graver consequences. Why are youngsters so keen on proving themselves as fearless heroes? The moment they came up with a risky idea, they felt compelled to execute it. Quite like true Knights in a sense: "I see the enemy - I charge!!!" Ignoring orders and dismissing tactics. Something definitely needed to be done about this. I hoped that Zanh Kiem, as the newly appointed head of the Abode of Knowledge, would assist me greatly in this long-term re-education effort. I couldn't possibly manage it on my own.
I also needed to address the issue of the Masks of Novilter. The Knights of this group were already trailing behind the rest in terms of training, save for their leader, yet they operated as an independent unit. Technically, Mersk followed my orders during the Breakthroughs, but he could potentially pull a fast one at any moment, leading to unpredictable outcomes. Moreover, Mersk held considerable sway over the Capital's Knights due to the popularity of his group's website. In fact, he was the fifth most influential raig, right after Halley and Crixus. This was a fact I needed to bear in mind constantly, which was far from ideal. I needed to have a serious conversation with him... But what if he dodged our meetings? Perhaps I should just reach out via their website? That might be the way to go. If he chose to ignore my request for a meeting, it will be on his conscience. I would send him a message in the next day or two when I visited the city.
So, I mulled over various thoughts repeatedly until I accidentally glanced at the clock, which read half past four in the morning. Since I had to be at the now familiar astronomy classroom by nine, staying up all night thinking wasn't the most sensible plan.
Relaxing, I performed some meditation exercises that Zanh Kiem had taught me. Afterwards, I concentrated on my Spark, continually sinking my consciousness into it until I drifted off to sleep. I had the oddest dream. Throughout the entire vision, I was frantically chasing after a fluffy tail. The weirdest part was that it was my tail.
Such bizarre dreams tend to occur after intense stress...
[1] TLN: This is not a mistake - Ungor misnames the new Knight.