That honor belongs to the mind. How an adequate talent can force reality to bend without need for master or sponsor.
I believe... those who wield those powers can act as their patron and extend their grasp to others. I just wish... there were more of them to play with.
Please provide more. There is so much to learn. So much to take."
- Classified Report of Glaniecan scientists.
The discussions continued for nearly an hour as the teams were sorted. Thankfully, the forced trip across the stars had bought them time, as only the starships of Praetors and Legates could come anywhere near the speed they had traveled. Meaning they didn’t have to rush anything.
At least not yet.
Dante sorted the information about Petra and Eran in his mind while he looked over Numen.
Petra is from Glaniece. Stole the eye of a Necto and imbibed their power through their rituals before escaping. Syrup is interesting, that’s for sure. She must make up for its lack of lethality with creativity. Eran, however, is far more dangerous. Ostacean experiments ended with his blood being made of mercury, which extends to his Tide. As for Numen... he won’t share his abilities. I don’t like a wildcard.
While Eran and Petra were more forward with themselves, Dante held his suspicions and annoyance toward Numen. However, he didn’t press the issue.
He would handle it himself.
The captain’s eyes glanced over his crew, and they nodded in reply. Most of them already knew what he wanted, learning his thought processes over the months together.
Lucius stepped to the side, standing next to Eran as the Martian said with surety, “Joan and I will be with him. Least likely to die from mercury poisoning if he loses control.”
That was the problem. Eran’s Tide was devious and beyond lethal, but he could hardly control it. The liquid metal often went haywire, and only Petra had enough dexterity with her Tide to reliably protect herself.
However, Dante smiled at Lucius’ words. The Martian and Harenlar were the best choices. They were the hardest to kill, whether by poison, fire, or steel.
Both were roaches and rats in their own ways.
Next, Sonna and Astraeus were ready to join Petra. They would make a solid team. Between the Dirge’s Domain Collapse, Sonna’s reconnaissance, healing, and prolonged damage, they would pair well with Petra’s versatile Tide.
Their team sounded a lot like he had slotted in instead of some random Necto. He believed they would suffice against any challenge that came.
“None of you have Domain Collapses, right?” Dante asked the three Nectos, and they all shook their heads. Still, Numen did it slowly. He seemed unhappy to be answering such a question.
Petra cracked her neck as she readjusted her eye patch and complained, “It’s harder for us to make them, y’know? All Nectos breach our own paths. That makes us stronger, though.”
“Hmm.” Dante merely hummed in agreement.
Archimedes glanced up at the human, his captain, and already knew where they would be going. They would be assigned to the unknown, who refused to share anything about himself besides his lack of Domain.
Dante returned that gaze with a short sigh. He trusted the kid to handle himself but had to be careful with him. They needed to fill the slots, and Dante would only feel comfortable with Archimedes beside him. If he wasn’t, the man wouldn’t be able to fight at his best due to worrying about him.
With the teams set up, the crew split with their members, but not before Joan performed the finishing touches on their Temps. She made sure the prosthetics were invisible to all but the most invasive scans and would last for several months.
There remained just a few weeks before the beginning of the Grands, and Dante wanted everyone to squeeze in every ounce of time they could to train. Petra agreed, already doing the same, while Eran moaned about how difficult it was, but he didn’t refuse.
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So, those two and their teams set off to training areas meant for the Glaniecian and Ostacean entrees. That left Dante and Archimedes at the house with Numen.
The Tianshe eyed them with dismissal and arrogance. Dante hated such a look. It reminded him of all the rich and powerful he met as a child. Those people who not only treated his father like trash but him as well. Little changed as he grew up and developed some renown of his own.
Dante sat on the ground across from the man and asked, as he hit the hardwood, “What is your problem? We are here to help you. Paid to do so, actually.”
The question brought Numen’s eyes back up from the communicator he held. He appeared young but not too young. Close to Dante in age if the human would have a guess. However, that assessment didn’t sit right with Dante as Numen glared at him.
“I don’t need your help,” he declared with the utmost arrogance. Then, in the same vein, he drawled briefly before admitting, “Though, I could use some cover. The longer I can go without using my Tide, the better. If you make it so I never have to during the Grands, I’ll reward you.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed at the bizarre request. No matter how suspicious the ask, the prospect of a reward intrigued him, “What is the reward?”
Numen shifted slightly, bringing a knee to his chest and saying, “I’ll tell you who Joseph is and where he is.”
“How do you know about that!?” Dante blurted out with his body arching forward. He was nigh ready to pounce, with the sole restraint being the deal he had made.
The Tianshe laughed as he raised a single finger, “We are a quiet organization, but information spreads amongst us. The other two might not know who we have of yours, but I do. Help me, and I’ll help you.”
His words sank into the air for several moments before a hushed and anxious voice entered the room, “Why do you need to hide it?”
Numen’s attention fell onto Archimedes, and the boy shuffled behind Dante for protection. Again, a stifled chuckle emerged from the Necto, and surprisingly, he answered, “Gives me an advantage. I’ll be ranked higher as well if my team is good enough to land me through without my actions.” Harsh eyes slammed into the human’s gaze, the force of a thousand wills clashing in a moment. “Tell me, Dante. Are you that good? The boy beside you won’t be much help in those challenges.”
Dante bore the weight of the man’s words, knowing full well this Numen stood far beyond him in power. It wasn’t just the way he spoke or presented himself. It was an innate feeling. This Tianshe’s connection to the Lightsea was profound.
Sure, with adequate preparations, there stood a chance he could win, but right here, Dante fell on the losing side. Regardless, he could not back away from a challenge, especially one he could benefit from.
They needed to secure as much help as possible to save Thanaris. Who knew if Ouran could actually do as he said? He’d feel far more at ease with another hand backing him.
Plus... the human's mind thought back to the version of himself he had killed. The eyes of focus. Of confidence.
Dante’s gaze hardened as he stared back into the abyss, finding Numen’s look almost charged with an electric sensation. The spark threw off his focus, but he didn’t lose his edge.
Water hummed along his skin, forming a thin film to protect him subconsciously. His Tide had grown massively since he first summoned it on Crislend. Most of that, he attributed to Geist’s help, but he had done much himself.
Just as he prepared to rally more to protect against whatever this man was doing, Numen stood without any pretense. Then, he walked out and said, “Not good enough. You can barely handle the first stage of Tidewoven Sympathy. Dirge don’t have Sea Arts. At least not often. The people in the Grands will all have at least one of such quality on top of Tides, Stigmata, and likely one Domain Collapse per team. You have two weeks. Let’s see how far you can fly, human.”
Dante had no room to reply as Numen strode out the door and into the city proper, leaving Archimedes and Dante alone in the house. The boy looked up at his captain, concern and lingering fear in his eyes.
With a shake of his head, Dante assuaged Arch's trepidation. He hovered a hand over the Thermo’s shoulder and said, “It’ll be fine. We must train as much as possible for the next two weeks. Are you ready for that? I’ll need your help. And Euclid’s.”
Archimedes bobbed his head excitedly, bringing a rare, warm smile to the human’s face, “Good. We’ll work on my Sea Art and help you with your Stigmata. I want to see if you can bring Euclid into reality. I know it’s a Psionic thing, but I have some ideas for developing that. Most are from Astraeus.”
The two quickly moved into the backyard of the house. Neither would need some grand arena or field to practice what they needed to. Dante was satisfied with his Tide and Stigmata. No vast changes would come in two weeks. Similarly, he knew Archimedes’ Tide was lacking.
He had to work with both Cryo and Thermo at the same time. It gave him options, but for a kid who knew nothing about fighting, that meant almost nothing. Versatility was useless if you didn’t know when to use what. Experience was the only thing that could provide that. And experience took far too much time to build.
So, he settled for what they could elevate in a short period. Plus, Numen’s warning about Sea Arts reminded him just how much use Surewinter had shown with its lack of development. It had saved him against Geist and proved invaluable since then. The minor boost it gave to his Tide, and the greater one to his physicality showed the depths within.
In the past, he had cycled through it with Astraeus’ Frigo or Sonna’s Arido to compel the cold within him. Now, he had a chance for the true Tide of cold. Cryo.
The two settled in as he had Archimedes use Cryo with Euclid’s help, letting Dante cycle his Surewinter. He was determined to reach the second stage so that his progress could no longer be shattered like before and forced to restart. His prior experience hurried along the budding crystals of ice even as his internal temperatures plummeted.
His eyes sparked with an epiphany as he told Isaac to use his Thermo as well. Unlike most Tides that fought desperately whenever they came into contact, Pythagoras’ merely brushed against each other, nonreactive in nature.
Warmth spread through the rest of Dante’s body as frost gathered in his chosen points. The progress toward the second stage was swift, and in just a few hours, he had surpassed even the point he had been at before his fight with Geist.
Once there, he took a break, feeling his body coming to a limit. The war of fire and ice in his body had brought damage that needed time to repair before he could continue.
Dante opened his eyes from meditation and peered at Archimedes, surprised by what he found. He had thought the boy was using his Tide from a few inches away. He was wrong. API was touching him. One hand on each shoulder.
The moment their eyes met, Arch leaped back like a startled cat, bringing a chuckle from his captain. With concern for his condition, Dante said to the boy, “It’s fine, Arch. Are you ready for your own training now? Not too tired?”
Archimedes nodded. Sweat dripped down his forehead, but he was determined. Seeing how he felt, Dante stood and brought out a cup from the house. He placed it on the ground in between the two as he took his seat once more in the dirt.
Then, he laced his fingers and watched the mechanic while saying, “Move it. Not with your hands. Imagine Euclid pushing it aside or something. Your mind is powerful. I never thought you’d actually be a Psion, but Joan and Astraeus proved you were while you were out cold. You got this. Just focus. It could take minutes or hours. Or days. That is fine. We’ve got time.”
Archimedes’ eyes constricted as his brows tightened. Dante felt something shift in the air, a slight halt to the breeze, but nothing happened to the small cup as several seconds passed.
At first.
Then, it suddenly exploded into a flurry of ceramic shards as a new cosmic record fell into place.