Thursday, March 27th, 2069

  “Take down another button,” the photographer stated. Two assistants came by and helped me get the white silk to sit right as I clumsily got the button undone on the shirt. A cool breeze from the overworked air conditioning made my skin prickle as it swept through the now larger gap and over my mildly muscled chest.

  This wasn’t something I did on the regular. It wasn’t like I was some sort of A-list celebrity. I wouldn’t ever say I enjoyed this sort of thing either. However, this was a photoshoot that could lead to something fantastic. Something I wanted—maybe desperately needed. I wanted to make a difference in the world, and other than being best friends with a Hunter that awakened with a Skill—this was the only other path I could see.

  It was even a competition of sorts—one I didn’t truly care for. Some of the others would be here for glitz or glamor, but not me. Sure, I wanted the chance of reawakening that came along with being a Mana Bank—but I’d be happy if I was useful—or I hoped I would be.

  To remind myself of the people who were here for the wrong reasons, I scanned my gaze over the room, seeing the line of other hopefuls who had paid for the SwiftGram photographer’s photoshoot today.

  Just like I had done, the next person in line was going through a fitting. Another assistant—this one a very stylish gay man—held up different blouses and short skirt combos, assessing them against the Egyptian woman’s skin tone. With only her bra and panties on, there was a lot of skin to contrast the garments against.

  How did I know she was Egyptian? Well, we’d spent about forty-eight hours waiting in line for this. On and off, of course, as our families held our place. Me looking to remind myself backfired when I saw her—she was here for the right reasons.

  “Tease me, make me want it. Better! Now lean forward slightly,” the photographer directed me, and I complied. This was Arnando Moreza, and he had millions of followers online. If I could impress him or have the best shot of the day, he might post about it. That would ensure an increase in my follower count and jump-start my hopeful career as a Mana Bank. “Good, Mister Mars, that young look to you is going to be irresistible. Now run your tongue over the right incisor and give me your best bedroom look.”

  That was something I’d heard my entire life. I looked young for my age. Being twenty-one and in my second year of college but looking like a teenager was annoying, but others seemed to envy it. I morphed my smile, turning it seductive in the best way I knew how, and placed my tongue as instructed.

  It wasn’t like I was some sort of expert, but I had been watching online MeTube documentaries. Part of me wanted to cringe at my actions, but those same MeTube videos agreed that this was my best shot at contributing to the war on Monsters.

  The photographer grinned back at me, and a few women and men nearby tilted their heads in appreciation. A flush of heat ran up my back to my neck and then over the crown of my head, leaving goosebumps in its wake at the response I was getting. Maybe all my hard work would finally pay off… Maybe I’d make a difference.

  “That’s fantastic, Alonzo. Flex a bit. Not that much. Dial it back,” Arnando instructed. “No. Not quite right, I think. We need something more. Bring in the Magic Staff!”

  “Which one?” someone shouted. I looked for the speaker but there were too many racks of clothing and armor around to find them from such a short exchange.

  “Blue, to compliment his eyes,” Arnando commanded.

  Almost instantly, I was handed a rod of black metal with a sapphire triangular prism glinting from its top. I was pretty confident this was a prop and not true magical equipment, since the latter was so damn expensive. Still, feeling good from the reactions I was getting, I put the rod over my shoulders and draped my wrists over both sides, attempting to play to the camera. Arnando’s smile grew and the shutter speed increased, telling me I might have managed something special.

  Muttering broke out from the line and the attendants. Some in appreciation, but most in discontent. Everyone wanted the same thing, I supposed, and my success could mean their failure. I’d shared a few mutters of grievance myself with Eva, the Egyptian woman, while waiting in line. So, I understood the feeling all too well.

  “That was fantastic, Alonzo.” Arnando flipped open a compartment on his camera, took out a small disk, and traded it with an empty one from an assistant beside him. “Morena here will do the editing and transfer the pictures to your DropDisk. I wish you luck. Next!”

  My flush of excitement slithered and morphed into a wiggling mass in the pit of my stomach. That was my fifteen minutes with Arnando, and he was moving on to Eva. I swallowed the lump that began climbing my throat and followed Morena. She made her way to a Pad-desk and placed the small DropDisk atop it.

  The top of the table instantly became a folder filled with photos. Due to the size of the table, each picture was large enough for me to make out. Morena began clicking on thumbnails, and I followed her finger. Each photo she touched was of me blinking, licking my lips, rounding my shoulders, or committing some other ‘travesty.’ She dragged them all to the trash, and I felt a flush creep up my neck when I saw a hundred and fifteen pop up in a bubble before she cleared them. I wasn’t exactly an expert model or anything like that. But I had been working on it.

  I just wanted to form a Mana Bank pairing so badly. That was my only real chance to not have to follow my parents' wishes of becoming an office worker. My only real chance to help people. Sure, the glitz and glamor might be nice—but I just wanted a good pairing.

  And perhaps, deep down, to re-Awaken a secondary Skill.

  Next, Morena touched the bottom of the desk nearest her and navigated various menus. With each finger tap, the pictures changed. Filters were applied and blemishes smoothed by an AI program she expertly managed. She paused in her tapping and looked up at me.

  “Hmmm. I don’t want to wash you out with light colors. How about a beach background?”

  I blinked, not realizing that she was asking me a question until the silence stretched long enough that it highlighted her pause. “Oh umm, sure.”

  She smiled and nodded, clicking some more buttons that effectively turned the green background of each picture into something different. No two pictures were the same, but each one was now taken on a beach or a boat. The pose with the staff over my shoulders was on the deck of a frigate now, with a huge hovering aquamarine Portal contrasting the dark blue of the water below. The silver of the ship and the military fatigues of milling people told me this was a shot of me ‘in the field.’

  I could almost recognize the shot. It was eerily similar to one of the first images the public had seen of a Portal after the Advent on December 14th, 2045. High school classes had driven the image into my brain as we’d studied and examined the days leading up to its appearance and the days after. Still, this wasn’t exactly the same picture, and if I was honest, I barely recognized the ‘teenager’ standing on the Frigate.

  My twisting stomach got worse. While I could still tell it was me in the pictures, I could also tell it wasn’t. I looked at myself in the mirror every day and knew my blemishes like old friends. To see these doctored pictures was like a strange fantasy I never wished for. A look I wouldn’t achieve even with the best makeup.

  Morena finished up a few heartbeats later, while I studied the changes she was making. Somehow, the pictures became even crisper in appearance. “Alright, anything else you think I should do?”

  I scratched the back of my head, feeling the coarse shaved hair there as I considered her question. I couldn’t tell her to replace some blemishes to humanize me, right? Surely, they were the experts—that’s why I’d asked my mom and dad to save up and send me in here, not to mention drive me. Sucking in a deep breath, I shook my head. “No, they look excellent.”

  Morena frowned for the briefest of moments before she shrugged ever so slightly. Then she made a motion above the table. Holding her open hand above it, she made a fist and then positioned it above the DropDisk. All the pictures vanished and she picked up the small disk.

  “Okay, if you’re satisfied, head over to the receptionist and she’ll handle your final payment. The disk is encrypted, so don’t even think about trying to pocket it and walk out. You’ll never get the pictures that way and just lose your fifteen-hundred-dollar deposit.”

  I held out my hand and she dropped the DropDisk into it. She held the small disk and her fingers in my palm and met my eyes.

  “I hope you find yourself a good, selfless young man.”

  Thanks to her endearing look and smile, I recognized she didn’t mean the comment as an insult. She was likely in her mid-thirties and was using a compliment that had morphed into something snide since. Plastering on a smile, I responded with enthusiasm, “Anything but a Greed!”

  “To the best partners,” she said and let go of the disk. I held my smile until I turned away. I knew she hadn’t meant to imply that I was a simp, but being reminded of the different categories of Mana Bank partners was always a bit depressing, regardless of intent. Sighing, I made my way to the receptionist.

  “Fifteen hundred dollars more for the pictures. Five hundred if you plan to keep the outfit,” the bored-looking receptionist said flatly as I approached. I looked down at the white silk shirt and off-white dress shorts before flinching. I’d forgotten all about them.

  Making a face, I excused myself and immediately changed into my ripped jeans, black t-shirt, and ‘vintage’ jacket I’d worn to the shoot. I wish I could say they were old by design, but they were thrift store purchases. Then returning, I paid the other half of the money my parents had given me.

  The receptionist took the disk and placed it into a slot beside the register before handing it back. “All good. You have full access. Have a wonderful day.”

  I put the disk in my pocket and then turned to watch Eva pose. The designer had chosen to dress her in a turquoise blouse and peach-colored skirt. The choice made her skin tone pop in a way that accentuated her stunning beauty even more. Arnando barked orders and Eva smoothly moved to follow. I hoped I looked as good as she did up there.

  There was a moment where I considered waiting for her, but I was tired and had her contact information. Plus, I’d spent the last two days chatting with her and was now competing against her for the picture of the day—which might make the conversation after the session awkward. Instead, I turned on my heels and left.

  The shoot was on the fifth floor of the Merceda Sports Center in Toronto, and as I made my way down the stairs, I studied the tents and campers that filled the entire parking lot. Arnando probably had another ten to fifteen days of people lined up outside, and I couldn’t help the new sigh that escaped unbidden. Sometimes this life felt like a rat race, an endless, self-defeating, pointless pursuit. All these people were competing for the same thing, to become a Mana Bank to a Hunter or the Stars—and I was one of them…

  The real problem was that without enough popularity, you wouldn’t get to pick the right Hunter. For me that was an active one—but for most it would be the one with the most star power. There were several horror stories out there about Portals and Pairings in general, which is what prevented most people from becoming Mana Banks.

  Growling, I started jogging down the stairs. I knew better than to let negative thoughts rule like that. Mindfulness and finish-line thinking was the way to win in the end. I just needed to believe I would come out on top, and I would. Or at least that’s what my school guidance counselor had said.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  I jogged out of the door at the bottom, keeping my thoughts positive and a smile on my face. It felt good to be walking the opposite way of the long snaking line—like I had accomplished something that had meaning. My eyes were fixed on that long lineup when something—no, someone—ran into my chest.

  Even as I registered the discomfort the collision had caused me, a waft of stale alcohol hit me in the face. At a glance, I could tell that the guy was drunk. On closer inspection, his yellowing skin and eyes suggested that he might be someone who operated in a constant state of drunkenness. I was no medical expert, but thought there was a name for the condition. Something to do with the liver.

  The man’s face started to go red as he looked around. Clearly still trying to process what had happened, but already stoked to anger. I decided to leave—not wanting to deal with an unreasonable drunken man. I glanced back, just to make sure he wasn’t seriously hurt, and found him trying to throttle a kid in line while shouting. Thankfully, I didn’t have to go back and help, since security was already rushing over.

  Sighing, I doubled my pace and focused my eyes in front of me, not wanting the accident to happen again. It didn’t take me long before I reached Uncle Jarred’s old borrowed tow-camper. My parents were in chairs under the awning.

  My mother, Clara, stood up at my approach. “How did it go?!”

  “Why don’t you see for yourself?” I answered, mirroring her excitement and fishing in my pocket for the DropDisk. I handed it to her, and she touched it to her phone. A moment later, she was flipping her finger over the screen and wearing a proud mothering smile. My dad, Gary, stood up after a time and looked over her shoulder. He wore a strained smile, which told me how he truly felt about my current pursuit, but at least he didn’t voice his feelings again.

  “So, which one is your favorite?” he asked instead. “Which one will have my son becoming a Mana Battery to the Stars?” I could hear the forced enthusiasm in his tone, but only because I knew him so well.

  I appreciated his attempt.

  “The accepted term is ‘Mana Bank,’ sweetie, Mana Battery is for Monster Cores turned into Mana Pools,” my mom corrected for me. “You know the ones the Specialists use at work.”

  “The one on the boat in front of the Gate. With the Sapphire Staff over my shoulder,” I answered, cutting off their sidebar. I didn’t have to feign the genuine excitement in my voice, but I did avoid correcting the misconception that I was aiming to be a Mana Bank to a star. It took a few minutes of flipping for my mom, but I could tell when she found the photo I was talking about, because her face lit up and her eyes widened.

  “Oh, that’s fantastic. You look so good!”

  “Are you sure that won’t confuse the Hero Awakened?” my dad asked as he studied the picture over her shoulder. He looked up at me, his eyes conveying the earnestness of his question. I hadn’t looked at it from that perspective yet. Magic equipment was only used by Heroes, otherwise known as Hunters, so he was asking if a picture of me holding the fake gear would make me seem like one.

  “That’s a good point,” I answered, feeling my smile slip. My hand came up toward my mouth and I opened my mouth to—my mother placed her hand on mine, helping me to remember not to bite my nails.

  “It’s a great picture!” My dad said quickly after receiving an elbow from my mother’s other arm. Clara mildly shook her head and flipped backward through the photos.

  “If you’re that worried, then I’d suggest this one,” she said and turned her phone around. The display held a picture of me looking genuinely happy. I nodded, and she flicked a finger which sent the photo to her phone. “In fact, I might just hang this on a wall at home.”

  Smiling shyly, I took back the DropDisk and started thinking about which photo I should post to SwiftGram first. I owed my small following an update. Would this photo be a good option for that post? It had been a few days since I told them about this shoot, but I’d definitely like to sit down and think about what I wanted to convey to them now. Most books I’d read agreed that as a small business, which was what I was trying to become, you needed to brand yourself.

  The four-hour drive home to Windsor would give me the time I needed to think…

  “Let’s get out of here,” I said as I motioned to the old Ford Escort in front of the trailer. We’d been here for two days already, and I had school on Monday morning, so my rush didn’t seem to offend anyone. That or they were as eager to get home as I was.

  I helped load up the chairs and grill, my mind whirling. What should my approach be for my upcoming post? Usually, I went for the eager and earnest approach, but my five hundred followers may be proof that it wasn’t working. That or I had no hope because of my F-Rank—

  “Stop it!” I scolded myself under my breath.

  My followers didn’t even know that the UNMH had scanned me as an F-Rank. I climbed into the back of the car and buckled in. Then I began creating a post on SwiftGram. I hadn’t even uploaded the picture when a notification for a new message came in. I clicked the button and found a name I’d been seeing everywhere for the last two days.

  I probably should have just blocked him after the flame war we had in the comments of a different post—but I figured one more follower wasn’t a bad thing.

  With a sigh, I clicked in, expecting the worst.

  I shook my head. This was not only a common request and considered beyond rude, but it had also been the exact topic I had been fighting with him over in the comments. The exact reason I needed popularity so I could pick the right Hunter to pair with.

  I clicked over to The Shop’s profile and found what I remembered. A relatively new account, with low followers, no pictures, and a heavy number of follows. I reported the message and was about to flip back to my profile when another message came in.

  My jaw clenched as I read. He was taking my profile introduction, twisting it, insulting me, and using it to poke at me for a response. Unlike Morena, he clearly was calling me a simp or sub. My profile simply read I was looking for a lifetime bond to grow with. A true partnership bond… which many believed was something of a fairy-tale.

  Before I could click the more actions button and block the asshat, he sent another message.

  My eyes widened. Husking was the greatest fear of a Mana Pool Awakened like me. Essentially, the threat of losing your Gift and becoming an unAwakened. A husk of your former self. Most people who lost their Gift committed suicide shortly after because they felt out of place in a world full of Gifted. Even if ninety percent of those Gifted only had an unused Mana Pool…

  Scientists theorized that having a Gift gave people a deeper connection with the current world. Like somehow it was an anchor. And while humans had survived for thousands of years before the Awakening, now everyone had a Skill otherwise known as a Gift.

  That first pull from a Mana Pool always carried with it the greatest risk. So, everyone wanted someone who was going to be careful—going to take it slow and have the restraint to stop before permanent injury came to their Bank. Essentially, someone who either knew what they were doing already or at least had trained in the theory of it. The phenomenon of Husking was still pretty common, and the term ‘Greeds’ was coined to describe the people who became Mana Drunk upon the first pull. That’s why one-time pulls were relatively rare—you just never knew what type of person you would get.

  I knew I should let it go and just move on, but the comment hit a bit too close to home because it called my dream into question. Reiterated my fairy-tale aspirations. Personally, I knew my desire to be a someone, and to make a difference, was a long shot. My urge to contribute to the fight against the Monsters wasn’t probable, but I didn’t want to be a Normie either.

  One of the seven billion, and then some, who had a Mana Pool and just let it go to waste. Abbas’ interview was a prime example of the desperate need for more active Mana Banks in this fight.

  His comments cut extra deep because I was not even a high-ranked Mana Pool talent. No, I was an F-Rank, according to my assessment. This guy was a piece of shit. Plain and simple. Probably someone lucky, who Awakened with a Skill but no Pool—and thus thought himself above people like me.

  Growling, I clicked the response box.

  I hit send hard, and the anger seemed to drain out of me a bit as I re-read my response.

  Admittedly, it wasn’t my best work. Insulting, yes, but this person was likely in a similar situation to mine. Everyone Awakened on their eighteenth birthday. The issue for me and people like The Shop was that on the extreme average, people Awakened with one Skill. I’m talking about one in hundreds of thousands awakened with dual Gifts. Meaning that most of the world only had a single one. There were rumors of people having a single Skill that didn’t need Mana, but those were only rumors. As far as I knew, each gift required Mana to use, and only if you Awakened with a Mana Pool and a secondary Skill could you be totally self-sufficient.

  The only other way was to put yourself in situations of extreme stress, usually within Portals, and re-Awaken another Skill.

  But those two situations were beyond rare… like more rare than Awakening two gifts to begin with. Except people could compound the odds in the re-Awakening by going into Portals over and over again. There were still further complications, too. Even if you got a good Skill, getting into a good Hunter University to train yourself on the usage of it wasn’t a guarantee. All in all, that’s probably what happened to this Shop character… Lucky enough to Awaken with a Skill other than a Mana Pool, but never properly trained.

  The fact that ninety-nine percent of the population Awakened with a single Gift was also why people like me, who Awakened with only a Mana Pool and no secondary Skill to use it, were in high demand. The chance of re-Awakening was why so many of us Pools wanted to be a Bank. It might be rare—but it did happen.

  It was the real reason I was getting pictures taken today and attempting to make a name for myself. Sure, I didn’t have the biggest Mana Pool to start, but rumor said it could grow with the right partner. With someone who would be cautious and not husk me. After a few years and slow growth, I could contribute to the fight as a Bank. Or, hopefully, I would be one of the lucky few and Awaken a new Skill.

  It was that or get a degree and work, which I was also pursuing—reluctantly.

  I glanced at my parents in the front seat. They were the ones who insisted I get a degree. They were both Normies, otherwise known as people who had a mostly untouched Mana Pool. So, while they supported me in my dream, as long as I didn’t tell them I wanted to pair with a Hunter, they didn’t really understand it.

  Gary, who was driving, smiled back at me in the mirror, which effectively took the edge off any of my remaining anger. They truly cared for me, and while I knew that the chances of becoming a Bank to a Hunter or a Star was slim, they wanted me to realize my dream. Gary just insisted I have a backup plan, which was why I was in my second year of Monster Material Management at Phoenix Academy.

  My mother noticed my father and I smiling, and joined us with a wide, brilliant grin. Then she pointed to the traffic we were joining on our way out of the stadium. “Glad we got here so early, or you’d never have made it to the first day of summer semester on Monday!”

  That was a very nice way of her saying that they both took a vacation to sit in a parking lot with me for the last three days. Even then, being here three days early hadn’t made us anywhere near first in line.

  “No kidding,” I said and, in a much quieter voice, added, “Thank you both.” I knew they both heard me, but they chose not to acknowledge it. Instead, Gary reached out and clasped Clara’s hand. She squeezed back, and I returned to my phone to give them privacy.

  A new message made my heart clench in my chest.

  My name on this account was Alonzo Mars. Brodie was my given name by my parents, but I’d decided long ago not to use it online. There were a multitude of reasons, but primarily amongst them were people finding me or my family through it.

  I hurriedly reported The Shop again and then blocked and banned the account. How had he found my real name?

  Cold sweat ran down my back. Trying to be inconspicuous, I looked through my eyelashes at my parents. Should I tell them? I shook my head. I was an adult now, and a person finding my real name didn’t mean anything. Right?

  After checking all my privacy settings and account information to ensure it was private, I calmed down a little. Surely, this Shop was just trying to scare me or something. Maybe it was even an old highschool classmate, just trying to husk with me. Either way, I wouldn’t let them.

  I moved back to my profile and finished my post, consulting an app I had for trending tags.

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