To stave off the mounting frustration, I needed to engage myself with something. The best option was to keep my mind occupied without doing anything that might arouse the "guest's" suspicion. As a result, after enduring till the end of the TV series episode, I switched the channel to some background music, retrieved a notebook and pencils from my backpack, and sat down at the table.
In my three weeks in this world, I've found a deeper understanding of comics and manga. This wasn't surprising, given that I'd read more of them in the past few days than in my entire previous life. Yes, my drawing skills were non-existent, but creating a rudimentary storyboard seemed achievable.
Fundamentally, a storyboard is a rough layout of a comic book page that indicates the general placement of frames. No drawing skills are required. A figure can be represented by a couple of lines and a circle; a few more lines can depict a background, notes can clarify what these scribbles represent, or even scattered squares or circles with annotations around the drawing. No publisher would accept such a storyboard, but this approach serves well as a preliminary step.
As I was reading all these comics, I often found myself thinking, "Who came up with such an unimpressive plot and illustrations? It can definitely be improved, this frame is clearly out of place, it should be moved elsewhere." But now, attempting it myself, I was discarding page after page into the trash, even at the simple stage of determining frame sizes. I hadn't even progressed to the squares and circles, yet the bin was half full!
Unexpectedly, this inability to produce a satisfying layout began to infuriate me even more than the mystery "guest" in the chair. Why was this proving so challenging? It seemed straightforward, I knew the plot, I remembered numerous scenes, so what was the issue? Regardless of how I arranged the frames, I was dissatisfied with the outcome, to the point that yet another page was discarded.
I hadn't felt this helpless in a long time, not even when Vicky was herding me around the hall like a child - that was more tolerable. Was I really so devoid of talent that I couldn't even replicate someone else's story?
It appeared so...
Another sheet of paper was crumpled and tossed aside, missing the bin. I didn't even want to retrieve it; anger was surging within me. I needed to switch gears. Grabbing a blank sheet, I attempted to sketch MadCat, a heavyweight missile mech, just for the sake of it. Perhaps a schematic drawing of it could shatter my block of ineptitude? Surprisingly, my robotic creation turned out to be discernible: clumsy and asymmetrical, yes, but the key details could be recognized without difficulty.
While engrossed in my activity, I noticed from the corner of my eye, the hazy form leave the chair and drift behind me. However, at that moment, I couldn't care less about the mysterious raig - I was too consumed by the process. Did they want to watch? Let them. I didn't have time to spare for them then!
Positioning the pencil sketch on a stand right before my eyes, I once again started on the storyboard diagram.
The "guest", after hovering behind my back and observing my actions for approximately ten minutes, suddenly disappeared from my peripheral vision and reappeared by the window. Subsequently, the rippling air merged with the glass and vanished somewhere onto the street.
Could that be it?
Was I no longer under surveillance?!
Doubtful, I continued sketching for another half an hour, crumpling sheets and tossing them out. I then rose from the chair and began to pace around the studio. It seemed like a habit of many creatives - pondering while walking the room. I was doing just that, emulating them but, in reality, scanning for the faintest disturbance in the air. However, after scouring the entire apartment, I couldn't find a trace of anyone's projection.
Was I finally alone?
A decade ago, I would have immediately dived into the Break and verified if my observation was accurate, and there were indeed no strangers in the apartment. But I've changed since then, and frequent trips to conflict zones had taught me patience. Therefore, I didn't hurry but calmly prepared dinner and ate, continuously observing the space around me.
The clock indicated it was only nine in the evening, although it felt like it was far into the night. This day felt never-ending, with events simply going on and on, refusing to conclude. This sensation was probably due to the constant commotion of the past hours: the journey, the foreign observation, Melanie's revelation about her chat with her boss... My eyes landed on the bin filled with crumpled paper and discarded sheets scattered across the floor - and this as well!
In my previous life, after such a stressful day, I would have spiked my tea with a good measure of cognac, sipped it slowly, and gone to bed. Nerves aren't made of steel and recover much slower than they wear out under such pressure. But that method wasn't an option now. Who knew how alcohol would affect me, considering Izao had never tasted anything stronger than beer in his life, and he never drank more than a bottle. What if I impulsively decide to play the hero again? Besides, sleep wouldn't come easily either way: my body was still trembling slightly. Cursed hormones! And I was better off not entering the Break; otherwise, I might have been able to manage my state better.
Switching the TV from the music channel to a news channel, I retrieved unread comic issues from my backpack and flopped onto the bed without undressing. I was too overwhelmed to think, analyze, or reflect - it was just too much, and I was sure I couldn't concoct anything beyond what I had already considered.
Moreover, the observer's departure without assigning a "replacement" likely suggests that my initial choice of behavior was accurate.
Regrettably, the gap between telling oneself, "don't think, distract yourself; the morning is wiser than the evening!"[1] and truly adhering to this advice is massive. Thus, I struggled until three in the morning. The diversion of reading comics and watching movies barely helped, and I didn't have the mental stamina to sit down and draw new storyboards.
By morning, I felt as though a herd of hefty hippos had been dancing the samba on me all night. Nevertheless, I forced myself to rise at the alarm clock. I washed my face, did some exercises, had breakfast, and realized it would be best to refrain from entering the Break that day. It seemed optimal to spend the day as an ordinary seventeen-year-old boy left to his own devices. With that in mind, I returned to bed and instantly fell asleep.
However, when I woke up near noon, I felt rested, rejuvenated, and brimming with energy. Falling back on old habits, I made some tea and sat on the windowsill with a mug.
Perhaps I had acted correctly yesterday, feigning ignorance of the observers. However, despite this "correct" behavior, the fact remains that someone had taken an interest in me for some reason - enough to follow me home. This issue can't simply be dismissed by burying my head in the sand and pretending nothing happened. It must be addressed.
Regrettably, I don't know how to do it without laying all my cards on the table. But such actions should be saved for the most extreme cases. What to do? Even now, with a clear mind, no matter how I examined the situation, only two options seemed to offer a semblance of a solution.
The first one was already in my mind. Run away. Abandon everything and hide. I have sufficient money for the initial phase, and I can figure out the rest later. But to flee... Fifteen years ago, I turned my back on a problem, gave up, or in other words, ran away. As a result, an exciting project was terminated, and good people lost their jobs. Even now, in this new world, after being reborn post-death, I feel ashamed of my escape. If I were to flee from Wilflaes, the only city on the entire planet where an official organization of the Knights recognized by the authorities exists, I'll likely blame myself even more later. I'll reserve this path for when all other bridges have been burned.
The second option is to join one of the Novilter raig factions, more precisely, the BKDW, since they enjoy state support, the duke's endorsement, and based on the attire of Maya's mentor, they seem to have the backing of the clergy. Besides, I already know several Knights from this organization, which is undoubtedly a plus, and they've shown interest in me. If not for the stark contrast between Izao's appearance and my projection, I could, in principle, easily become an open raig. I don't have any family in this world. The only way someone could manipulate me is through Melanie, which would be a grave mistake on their part. I'm not Izao, and she's a stranger to me, though her recent calls and burgeoning concern for her son have stirred some semblance of empathy within me. Still, no one can use her to control me. Nevertheless, the path of the open Knight is far from ideal for me: too many questions would arise from the disparity between the physical body and the projection. But, if someone were to expose me as a raig, this detail would soon be public knowledge. Joining this structure would offer protection from many external threats. However, it might also bring other issues, perhaps much larger than being observed by unknown raigs.
What a troublesome time for all of this to occur. I'm still not well-versed enough in this world, especially considering the intricacies of the situation, to either run away or join organizations overseen by special agencies. Yet, the alternative to these two options is a direct confrontation with the observers, which could result in another death of the raigs - exactly what I aim to avoid. Even if this isn't my home world, I don't want the Bremen tragedy to be repeated because I killed several Knights of Troyusse, and the ensuing Breakthrough around the city wasn't contained due to a lack of defenders. I don't need such a burden on my conscience. I'm aware that physical death isn't the end of the road - the transmigration of souls is ample proof. I don't want to risk my afterlife, whatever that term signifies, out of fear for my own safety. It would be unjust and immoral by my standards, my parents raised me this way long ago. Hence, direct confrontation is a precipice better not approached.
However, if it comes down to conflict and attempts to impose someone else's will on me through less than honorable methods like pressure, blackmail, or physical threats, then I will unsheathe my blades, and my conscience will be clean.
So, today's plan of action is straightforward - slack off all day. More accurately, I'll do what Izao would have done if left to himself. Killing time is essentially the plan, albeit while keeping a vigilant eye out for any surveillance.
I decided to skip the fuss of making breakfast and lunch. Instead, I simply ordered a pizza and sat at my computer to play some games. Afterward, while eating, I watched a couple of episodes of a new anime and then pulled out a textbook on calculus, pretending to study. Or rather, I started off pretending, then abruptly realized that I had almost entirely forgotten the subject. I randomly selected several exam problems and only correctly solved three out of five. What a disappointment; I didn't expect such a lapse from my memory! Does this mean I now need to seriously hit the books? It appears so. There's less than a month before the start of university classes, and messing up on the initial tests would be a disaster. It would be rather humiliating if, with my experience and technical university degree, I ended up at the bottom of the academic performance list. No, no, no, that simply won't do. I plan to excel in this world, and an honors degree is a handy rung on the career ladder. Relying solely on the abilities gifted by my projection is not my desire, which means I'll have to buckle down with the textbooks again, just like in my distant youth.
Hey, why am I getting so disheartened? I've done it once, and I can do it again, especially since it should be much easier the second time around.
After an hour and a half of solving problems, I felt as exhausted as if I'd been training all day. That's what happens when you fall out of practice. Pushing the textbook and sheets of worked problems aside, I lay down on the bed and resumed watching anime. The series was beautifully animated but so clichéd that I fell asleep during the fifth episode without even realizing it. True, I didn't sleep long, about an hour, but it was a mistake: the real Izao would never doze off like that. On the other hand, even if I am under surveillance, I'm certain these unknown observers know very little about the boy's past and even less about his daily habits and behavior. Even if the secret service is watching me through the raigs, Izao was still an ordinary schoolboy who didn't stand out amongst thousands of his peers.
While sipping tea in a semi-drowsy state, it occurred to me that I should probably stop adhering to many of the previous body owner's habits. Granted, certain details, such as the fascination with robots and a love for anime, comics, and manga will have to remain - these were defining aspects of Izao's life. But concerning everything else, it's not worth the bother. Moreover, with a forthcoming move to the university campus, a change in residence will invariably lead to new habits at this age. Thus, fretting over "what Izao would do" is generally unnecessary, at least while Melanie is far away. However, when in her presence, I'll need to pay meticulous attention to even the minutest details of my behavior. Fortunately, she is currently in France and may even relocate there permanently, given her satisfaction with the work and its lucrative remuneration.
All day, from the very morning, I made a conscious effort to survey not just the apartment, but the surrounding area as well. Despite this vigilance, I detected no signs of surveillance throughout the day. However, if professionals were indeed on the job, they wouldn't even require raig abilities to monitor me without detection. Yet, there's a catch - yesterday's observers were far from behaving like professionals; they audaciously made their presence known, with one even taking up a chair for a couple of hours!
Could it be they've decided to leave me alone? I'm unsure why I drew their attention. Maybe they didn't suspect me of being a Knight, and the surveillance...Damn, I can't conceive of any reason why someone should be tailing me. All other theories crumble under the slightest scrutiny.
What's most unsettling is that even if the surveillance was some kind of prank, say, two raigs placed a bet or something, or a mistake - it doesn't alter the facts. I can't just dismiss this episode, knowing that unknown Knights showed an interest in me, and furthermore, they're privy to my true identity and residence. I can't just discard this knowledge and resume a peaceful existence as if nothing happened. I might not be a genius, but I'm certainly not foolish enough to ignore this with a dismissive: "Well, since I don't see anyone, then everything is fine. I'll just go on with life as before!". That's why, late in the evening, when the sun had already set and most people had returned home from work, I dressed for a walk and exited the apartment.
Stolen story; please report.
Problems demand solutions; otherwise, they end up dictating your life. The first thing I needed was information, and I was just about to start gathering it. As soon as the elevator doors closed, leaving me in solitude, I instantly slipped into the Break. I glided down the shaft to the very bottom, outpacing the cabin, and moved directly through the floor into the building's basement, and subsequently into the familiar sewer. Given my suspicion that yesterday's observers know I'm a Knight, the only detail I can conceal is my projection's appearance. If the surveillance persists, discovering an empty elevator will affirm their knowledge that I'm a raig. However, my presence in the Break will remain a mystery to the observers, which suits my current needs.
After traversing two blocks underground, I emerged near the tallest nearby building, from which I could survey the areas surrounding my house. I ascended as high as possible, attempting to stay hidden in the shadows, and primarily moved through walls.
If I were conducting close surveillance on someone living in my building, I would unquestionably station a long-range observation post at the highest point. However, upon inspecting the entire roof, I found neither observers nor cameras. After ensuring the coast was clear, I moved in a broad spiral, with my house at the center. My objective was to detect signs of surveillance or other raigs.
Despite an hour of this endeavor, I found no hint of anything. This baffles me! It's entirely at odds with yesterday's audacious and persistent pursuit. Perhaps, it would have been easier if I had detected surveillance - it would at least provide a starting point. A thread that, once tugged, could offer some insight into the pursuers' capabilities. But there's nothing...Or perhaps I'm dealing with true professionals, who have an intimate understanding of projection abilities and account for all the nuances.
This is far from ideal.
Yet, top-tier professionals typically work for established organizations, and someone issues them orders. That someone must be very influential. How could I have piqued the interest of such powerful individuals? And to such an extent... Only one explanation makes sense. They mistook me for the First Raig. And this is troublesome because if that's the case, they won't allow me to live peacefully. According to the myth, the first Knight, even if he wasn't the root cause of the Breakthroughs, knows what triggered this phenomenon. With this in mind, many would go to great lengths to acquire such information. Why did I respond so ambiguously to Kraas's question? Why didn't I simply assert a firm "no"? Max knows the nature of the "Word" and would understand that I wasn't lying. But no, I had to retort: "Do I look like him?". If all these issues stem from that, then I'm quite the fool. Why didn't I immediately recognize that any suspected First Raig would be relentlessly hunted? At that time, I reasoned that a bit more mystery and ambiguity surrounding my persona wouldn't hurt. That was a misguided and hasty assumption.
Having spent another thirty minutes thoroughly searching for remote observation devices to no avail, I decided to let it go. It was what it was. It was time to proceed with the second task I had planned for the evening, which was to visit the BKDW website and familiarize myself with the information available only to registered Knights.
To do this, I required a computer that wasn't mine, one that was switched on and connected to the internet. Yesterday, I contemplated using someone's home computer while they were at work, but a much more sensible idea occurred to me today. The city was chock-full of business centers, each housing hundreds of offices. I was confident that there would be plenty of operational computers in each building. I'm not referring to servers, but rather ordinary office computers. Some people might forget to switch theirs off before leaving, while others might keep theirs on for downloads or video processing - there could be numerous reasons. Opting for a business center was safer. Plus, locating me in a massive office building would be quite a challenge if anyone figured out where the BKDW forum was being accessed from.
I chose King's Tower, a forty-four-story skyscraper, and one of the largest business centers in the eastern districts of Wilflaes. My selection was based on the number of offices and the fact that it was far from the BKDW building. King's Tower best met these criteria.
Since I needed to reach my destination undetected, I opted for a route through the narrow backstreets, which took a good half hour, instead of a quick path over the rooftops that would have taken a mere ten minutes at my speed. I tried to avoid open spaces and stick to shadows as much as possible, where the translucent silhouette of my projection would be less visible to other raigs.
I started my exploration of the Tower at exactly ten o'clock in the evening. Despite the late hour, almost every tenth office in the building was still active. However, this fact worked more to my advantage, as ordinary individuals cannot see me in the Break and, therefore, wouldn't be able to raise an alarm due to unauthorized intrusion.
Upon swiftly scanning the building, I identified at least forty operational computers in unoccupied and enclosed spaces. However, I had to immediately discard three offices due to the presence of CCTV cameras. Two more were eliminated because their computers were running video editing programs that, to my knowledge, consume almost all the hardware resources. Sure, it would be possible to temporarily pause these processes, but I considered this an unnecessary risk. Eventually, I selected a spacious, open-plan office. The company leasing the space was engaged in wholesale baby food sales, and judging by the numerous family photos, it was mainly women who worked there. I found four network-connected computers in this single room! After double-checking the office for cameras or other surveillance devices, I chose a corner desk and exited the Break.
Settling into a comfortable chair, I clicked on the browser icon, went online, and typed in a familiar address. In the worst-case scenario, if someone was indeed looking for me and several Knights were constantly on duty, I would have no more than half an hour. So, I decided to limit myself to this timeframe. I wished I had more time, and perhaps I was being overly cautious, but the surveillance had heightened my paranoia.
Glancing at the system clock, I entered my username and password.
Before I could navigate to the forum, an icon with a message from the site administrator immediately popped up:
"Welcome to our website, Maestro. I have granted you a month's access, on par with the access of the Break Knights affiliated with our organization. I hope this gesture of goodwill shows you that we can be trusted. Looking forward to our cooperation and see you soon. Max Kraas."
Well... how should I interpret this? As a trap, or as it is written, a gesture of "goodwill"? If it weren't for yesterday's surveillance, given Kraas' reputation, I would have been inclined towards the latter option, but now I was unsure.
Initially, I planned to peruse the forum accessible to ordinary raigs in the city, hoping to find clues leading to an explanation of the current situation. However, in light of this message, instead of ignoring both the general and sub-forums available to registered Knights, I moved straight to the section exclusive to members of the organization.
The forum interface appeared ordinary, with no frills; there were three dozen regular threads and five pinned topics. My first action was to search for my pseudonym, but I quickly realized this was a mistake. The search engine was poorly set up, and the results included topics from public sections, which essentially amounted to a flood of meaningless chatter.
Understanding that finding anything useful this way could take an eternity, I shifted my attention to the pinned topics.
The first one, "Diplomacy," was dedicated to establishing interactions between BKDW and the raigs outside of Wilflaes. As I scrolled through the messages, I was pleasantly surprised to find this challenging task was progressing more successfully than one might assume from the outside. It even seemed likely that branches of the organization in other cities across the country might soon open. It was an intriguing topic that warranted careful examination, but not now.
The second was titled "Getting acquainted." In this topic, the organization's Knights shared information about themselves as they saw fit - a largely empty, formal thread. However, this was not unexpected. Apart from three open raigs, the rest preferred to keep their real names confidential and only shared minimal information.
The third topic was titled "Newcomers in Town." As far as I could tell, the thread mirrored a similar one in the subforum for registered raigs and focused on discussions around newcomers, from recently initiated individuals to visitors to the city. It consisted of observations, a lot of off-topic chatter, and personal impressions about various Knights. The last three pages were almost entirely dedicated to discussing me, or rather my projection. I must admit, many flattering remarks were made, especially by a user going by the nickname Leonidas. It appeared to be the "hoplite" I had fought alongside in the last Breakthrough. It was a bit unnerving to read that they were earnestly discussing whether I was the First Raig. Opinions were almost evenly divided. Additionally, in this thread, there was a small poll about inviting me to join BKDW and temporarily granting my account the rights of a full-fledged member of the organization. From what I could gather, everyone had unanimously voted in favor. Intriguing, I thought it was Kraas' initiative, but it appears not to be so. Viewing BKDW as a paramilitary organization serving the state, I had subconsciously projected onto it rules that were familiar to me. However, it seemed there was no autocracy here, and important decisions were made collectively. While the organization only has eleven members currently, this method still works, but such a structure will become too cumbersome as the group expands. That said, I believe the analysts at the House on the Hill are well aware of this and will initiate a reorganization once the numbers cross a certain threshold.
The fourth topic was titled "Contacts." It was a pinned thread with a single message, listing all communication channels with various law enforcement agencies and representatives of the clan associations. It also provided the contact number of the liaison from the Castle. All members were urged to remember these communication lines and use them directly if they detected any anomalies within their profile and didn't have time for a consultation.
However, the fifth pinned topic's name initially struck me as odd: "Problems with Rats." The opening post dealt with BKDW receiving an ultimatum from the powerful Eshin clan. The accusation was that within Wilflaes' territory, unidentified raigs had decimated the small rat clan Pest, and attacks had also been carried out on a "related branch," specifically, the Skyre clan. BKDW, as an organization representing the Knights of Wilflaes, was asked to identify and eliminate the killer or killers, and then turn over the bodies to Eshin. If not, the Eshin clan reserved their "sacred" right to vengeance. Reading this thread made my skin crawl. It wasn't the threat that was chilling, although it was indeed serious — after all, Eshin was regarded as the oldest rat clan on the planet, and they specialized in covert assassinations. Rather, it was realizing how different this world was from the Earth I knew. This difference lay in the fact that all of BKDW's "overseers," even the House on the Hill and the clergy, acknowledged the validity of the Great Clan's demands, leaving the young raigs to handle the problem on their own. And this was considered normal in this world. They didn't care that BKDW had no involvement in the murder of the rat people. It didn't matter — if you declare yourself responsible for a territory or claim leadership in a specific human community, then you must be held accountable for everything that "your people" do or what transpires on "your land."
The Pest clan was notoriously known for controlling half of the city's drug trade and engaging in illicit organ transplantation, abducting donors for wealthy, sick people around the world. Yet, it was exterminated within a mere couple of days, and these killings bore the unmistakable mark of the Break's forces.
The claims were supported by copies of forensic sensum reports and police documents. Eshin's outrage stemmed less from the attack on the minor clan and more from its total annihilation. In other words, a branch of the family tree, albeit a small one with a long history, had been severed. If the killers had spared at least the children, no ultimatum would have followed, or the House on the Hill might have risen to defend BKDW. But the "genocide" of an entire clan was a grave crime without a statute of limitations or justification. It didn't matter that the exterminated clan was a criminal one. This was where the solidarity of this world's powerholders, the shapeshifting aristocracy, came into play.
To the credit of the raigs under Kraas' command, they had no intention of killing anyone. Still, they were determined to get to the bottom of what had happened and were seriously involved in the investigation. Reading this forum thread felt like diving into a genuine detective novel: BKDW's members were tugging at the slightest leads, trying to locate the elusive murderers. I wished I had more time. Otherwise, I would have read all one hundred and fifty pages. Plus, I had a hunch about who had orchestrated the genocide of the Wilflaes rats and also grazed the arvicolines[2]. My own theory began to form: likely, the Pest clan had kidnapped a relative of the Korean raig brothers, who had attacked me in the port hangar, transported them via Skyre smugglers to the capital, and harvested their organs. In turn, the brothers were consumed with a desire for revenge. Honestly, I shudder to think what I would do in their shoes if something similar happened to Vicky or my children. However, I can attest that these rogue Knights went overboard, slaughtering everyone in their path, even bystanders.
Skimming through the pages, I didn't pay much attention to the details but searched for any potential links between the massacre and my projection. Yes, I would have to give everything a thorough read later. The way an investigation is conducted can reveal much about its participants. This kind of information about the characters of the organization's raigs could prove valuable to me.
I continued flipping through the pages until, almost at the end of the thread, I came across one particular message that prompted me to start reading intently.
[1] TLN: This phrase indicates that situations often appear clearer after a good night's sleep and rest.
[2] TLN: This is another term for water rats (Skyre in this context).