Chapter 28: 27 – Ripple

Klaire left the—particularly not interesting—101 lecture on media training: Facial Expressions and Body Language. Their classmates filtered out around them into the marbled hall, and they stopped to stretch their arms overhead with a yawn. The instructor had gone on and on about different variations of smiling, when to use which smile depending on the situation with fans and press, and who could forget, varying drone camera perspectives.

It was nothing their father hadn’t attempted to instill in them before.

Klaire loved smiling. Why were they all trying to ruin it for them?

Nevara and Rikon gave Klaire a gesture and headed off for dinner with the rest of the crowd, but Klaire noticed Mori walking the other direction, headed for the lift to their suite. They frowned. It wasn’t difficult to understand why she wouldn’t want to be around others.

Between her stunts at the entry exams and Nevara walking out of the training room this morning, Klaire wouldn’t want to be seen either. And to be so far behind Acolyte? Klaire couldn’t imagine the pressure, especially if Prime was anything like their father. Though, it was difficult for Klaire to imagine anyone as terrible as him.

Despite the team agreeing to keep Mori’s rank under wraps, It wouldn’t be long before the whole school knew. Klaire had urged Nevara to apologize, but the Striker was as stubborn as she was perpetually tired. Mori was clearly capable, and the First Year Showcase was a full year away. It was a long shot, but it wasn’t impossible. Favored were given four years upon receiving their nanites before the Foundation Schools started up, four years to fill their channels with treasure pills.

Could Mori do it in a year?

More importantly, Mori liked Moonshot Campaigners, and didn’t think it was childish or lame, so Klaire would basically die for her.

Klaire strode after her. Maybe they could convince her to come eat. They tapped their lips as they walked. Now that Klaire thought of it, they hadn’t seen Mori eat anything at all since they got to Lyko.

A notification pinged through Klaire’s nanites. The ping continued. A call, coming through their house’s encrypted channel.

Their gait came to a rest, and they swallowed, furling and unfurling their fingers. Klaire thought about not taking it, ignoring him, but the thought made their chest tighten, difficult to breathe. They scanned the hall, and ducked into an empty side lounge with a large bay window looking out onto the blue dwarf sun.

Klaire brought up their holo, and was met with their father’s face as he rested in his study chair, the hustle and bright neon lights of Ascencia behind him.

“Kasar.”

Kasar grimaced. “Now that you're at school, you think you are welcome to disrespect me? You aren’t out of my reach just yet, Klaire. Remember that. Now, I want updates.” He sucked on his cherry creme vape.

“My team is wonderful and things are going awesome. Thanks for asking.”

Kasar sighed. “No, Klaire. The girl. I know she’s on your team comp.”

Klaire shook their head. “Why is this so important? I know she’s Prime’s daughter, but she’s nice, and—”

Kasar bared his teeth. “You know why it’s important, Klaire. What that woman did to your mother, her dreams, our dreams, she and the rest of Stellar snubbed her and team AC3. This isn’t just strategic, this is personal.”

It wasn’t just Prime and team Stellar, it was mom’s choice to do what she did, to take her own… Klaire’s throat constricted, and they closed their eyes. “So, does that mean the daughter should suffer for her mother’s sins?”

“The question is, should my child suffer for them? Should the rest of the children from the Edge suffer for them? We came from nothing, Klaire. You grew up only seeing the sparkling towers of Ascensia, could want for nothing. You’re mother gave you that, built the foundation so you could soar. It’s only those at the top that can make change, can beckon the ARCborn’s ear. You’d spur the chance to make change over momentary feelings?”

Klaire looked away. “What if… what if we could be on an Ascension team together, and…”

“You think Prime would allow that? ARC knows what that woman’s intentions are.”

Klaire rounded on their holo, splayed their hands. “She’s stuck at Initiate, far from Acolyte. Okay? We don’t need to lift a finger. Her odds of getting on a strong team are already terrible.” It hurt Klaire to say so, but it was true.

Klaire heard the drumming of Kasar’s fingers on his study desk. Kasar’s lips peeled back in a wicked grin. “No. It’s not enough. I can’t for the life of me understand why she’d be stuck at Initiate with Prime’s coffers, but you can never underestimate her scheming... We strike while metal is hot. Make certain she never joins an Ascension team, all while lifting you into the spotlight and garnering the eyes of the Great Houses. Your path to Apogee will be all but guaranteed.”

Klaire’s gut soured at the thought. “What are you saying?”

Kasar stood up and walked over to look out the window at the silver steel city, his holo following him. “To be stuck at Initiate, and so far behind. It must be lonely, frustrating.” He snickered. “It might even make one desperate for any shred of an edge.“

Klaire did not like where this was going in the least.

Kasar took another puff of his vape, blew a cloud out to disperse across the window glass. “I’ll make sure you have what you need. All you need to do is make sure the device finds its way into her possession.”

Klaire bit their lip. This isn’t how they wanted their schooling to go. They wanted to make friends, to be free of the oppressive air of their house, to not have to think about their mother’s dream just for a fleeting moment.

To not have to hurt someone they like to make it possible, but if Kasar already had eyes and hands inside of Lyko... If they didn't do it, what would their father stoop to next?

“What are you sending me?”

“A Nanite Adjuster.”

 

❄

 

Gitta sat on the lip of the marble fountain in the indoor courtyard, water bubbling behind her. Trees, shrubbery, grass and flowers all stretched towards the artificial sunlight coming from the vaulted ceiling. A butterfly fluttered before her face, and she blew it away. She tapped her fingers on her arms, swung her feet back and forth, heels clunking against the fountain side.

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Where the aether was he?

A couple more agonizing minutes passed before Rikon poked his head out from the corridor, scanning his surroundings. Gitta hopped off the fountain, shoved her hands into her M.C.E hoody. “No one’s here you dolt, you can come in.”

Rikon sauntered in wearing flip flops and a Lyko tee and shorts, scratching his mullet.

Gitta crossed her arms. “Well? Spill it. I want to hear everything about her second manifestation.”

Rikon sighed. “Why are you so obsessed with her?”

Gitta huffed, looked away. “Everyone in the whole school is obsessed with her. She’s the talk of the town, Rikon.”

Rikon pursed his lips. “No. You're like obsessed obsessed. Are you sure it’s just because she’s Prime’s daughter?”

Gitta’s ears heated. ARC he was annoying. He could barely look others in the eye, shy as a skittish pup, but when it came to the two of them, it was as if he could see right through her. It had been that way ever since they first became M.C.E trainees.

He took a step forward. “Is it because of what happened in the entry—-”

Gitta thrust a hand up. “Just—tell me, okay? I have perfectly normal and good reasoning for why I want to know.”

Rikon smirked, sheathed his hands into his short pockets. “Well, my team Captain strictly forbade me from revealing team strats and abilities unnecessarily.”

Gitta grimaced, pulled a packaged Nebu-bar from her sweatshirt pocket and slapped it into Rikon’s hand.

Pleased with himself, he inspected his bribe that was worth a tenth of her weekly arcoin allowance. She had asked Jana to increase it immediately, but her demon of a sponsor said she had to win her first five mock battles first. Five. Of course she would win, even if her new explosive Projection now made her Summon’s fire rate slower when combined. Winning wasn’t the issue. Time was. It would take months.

Rikon frowned. “Hey, this is jeji nut flavor. I specifically recalled asking for chocolate and toozel nut.”

“The machine ran out, okay? I come from the grime of Midrim City, not some Great House.”

“Yeah, yeah, me too. Excuses, excuses.”

Gitta glared. “Rikon, I swear to ARC—”

“She doesn’t have a second manifestation.”

Gitta’s eyes widened. “What?”

“She’s still at Initiate.” He tapped the bar against his opposite palm. “She’s far from it, too. Too far for someone from a Great House.” His lips curled downward. “Honestly, I feel bad for her.”

Gitta’s stomach knotted, her pulse quickening, her sweatshirt becoming suffocatingly hot.

I lost to someone still at the bottom of Initiate?

She shouldered past Rikon, toward the corridor.

“Hey! Wait up! Where are you going?”

“To break something.”

 

❄

 

Mori fell to her hands and knees on the interlocking tiles of the training room, sweat dripping off her nose and strands of hair. Her limbs shook, and her stomach felt like it was eating her from the inside out. Her body shouted at her to eat something, screamed at her to rest but…

Eight stances. She still had six left to decipher. Each pass got her closer, she could feel it, the sensation and flow of the movements in synergy with the anima in her channels.

She pulled up her holo stats.

Advancement: no perimeters met.

She clawed the floor, grit her teeth, frustration welling in her throat.

She screamed until it burned, the deafening effect of the training room keeping it contained for her ears alone.

She placed a wobbling foot underneath her, and fought her way back to standing. With her Lyko tee drenched with sweat, she assumed stance one.

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