[Skill Activation: I-Fire]


    I found myself in a pretty tight spot: back against the wall and sweating like hell underneath [Yuzhou]. What’s worse was the tornado of twisting red flames coming at me, having been spawned from Aiden’s left palm. It crashed into the wall a few meters to my right, giving the white panels a fresh coat of gray ash and black soot. With a heavy motion of his arm, Aiden mightily swung the [Fire] toward me.


    While it looked terrifying—felt more terrifying up this close—the tornado was relatively slow.


    I slid through the gap between flames and floor, feeling the heat scorch my helmet. On the other side, I spotted Aiden standing there like a super-villain, glowering, his lava-orange eyes tracing me.


    The [Fire] whipped in the other direction without losing its momentum, bringing me right into its crosshairs again.


    Tch, asshole.


    The game went on.


    We hadn’t been fighting for more than a few minutes, but I’d gotten familiar with his style. Aiden was a versatile fighter, able to confidently switch between close and ranged combat thanks to his rather unoriginal gimmick. Most reputable Slayers had their trademark [Skills]—just like signatures—such as [Crimson Moon] for Cheonma or [Senbonzakura (千本桜)] for the Nine Foxmaidens.


    For Aiden, according to the internet, it was [Flame Avatar Shift]. The [Skill] allowed him to increase all attributes in five distinct stages, each one more powerful than the last. I didn’t know if there were any drawbacks. I hope so, because the first, [Burning Tempest], was already kicking my ass.


    [Skill Activation: P-Fire]


    I also noticed something else.


    He had golden flames wrapped around him in a protective, fiery cloak. It blocked most of the shots I took with [Nightingale], seemingly possessing different properties than the tornado he’d nearly killed me with earlier.


    Two distinct fire-related [Skills]? One red and the other gold? I never heard or saw that before, but not like I was expecting anyone normal in this team.


    I dispelled my [Pistol] and sucked in a heat-filled breath. If my helmet was down, he’d see one scared sword who wasn’t in the mood to get roasted alive today. “You satisfied yet, FB? I’m not much of a top-tier fighter compared to you and the princess.”


    Despite stating the obvious fact, Aiden got even grumpier. The golden [Fire] extended down and dragged across the floor, leaving light scorch marks in its wake. He had [Jiroku] low at his waist, and he marched. This couldn’t be the same delinquent who had constantly made headlines. He looked like a king.


    “You disabled Leo with a pressure-point technique,” Aiden said. “Where’s that [Skill] now? What else are you hidin’ from us, Conq?”


    The reason I couldn’t use the [Anti-Slayer Techniques] was because someone was literally the walking embodiment of fire, but sure, alright.


    I spat, “Nothing that warrants dragging this out.”


    “I’ll be the judge of that—!” Aiden stomped forward and quickly spun; initially, I expected a hefty but reckless flaming greatsword, but even with [Jiroku]’s length, he was out-of-range. He wouldn’t hit me, and that was the point.


    Aiden wasn’t attacking with his sig; he was attacking with the golden flames. His cape dramatically unfurled like a fishing net, catching me off-guard and making me do a terrible dance to avoid getting burned. I failed to retreat far enough, and so on the second spin, I was perfectly in-range for [Jiroku].


    Clever bastard.


    [Memento Recollection - Chain Gauntlets]


    He wanted to chop my head off, but I gave him my arm instead. [Jiroku] chomped through my left [Gauntlet] and stopped at [Yuzhou]—don’t let me imagine what’d happen if I hadn’t summoned more protection. Even now, letting myself spend ten seconds this close might kill me.


    But there was a silver lining: [Jiroku] was lodged in the [Memento].


    For a moment, we were stuck together. That’s all I needed.


    [Mana Impact]


    I clocked the shit out of him using my better hand. Briefly, his eyes rolled into whites but rage brought him back to life. Veins popped in his strong hands and I felt [Jiroku] burning into [Yuzhou]—this crazy dickhead was planning to push through my arm, now?


    It’d be for naught, because a foot [Impacted] his stomach and forced a guttural groan from his hot mouth. The golden flames around him dissipated. My kick was powerful enough to break the clinch, his fingers slipping free from the hot handle, and allowed me to toss his toy aside for the time being.


    When [Jiroku] hit the ground, a shadow on the white floor flared. If a flaming greatsword wouldn’t do the trick, Aiden thought, then a fiery fist would. An unforced error. If Aiden’s expertise lied in his ability to manipulate the element fire, then he was stepping into mine: hand-to-hand combat.


    This was the one thing I’d trained in.


    Aiden’s burning knuckles couldn’t reach me.


    Instead, mine were driven into his side and again to the cheek. Angered, his elbow cracked against my helmet but bounced off, ineffective. I kneed his stomach, assaulted him with swift jabs, and pushed him back. I stomped forward and his leg shot out, missing me by a mile, and a simple kick down below brought him crashing onto his back.


    Cursing, he flashed his palm and an ominous red light swirled there. Next thing I know, a concussive blast pounded my chest, but it wasn’t as hot or powerful as I thought, luckily. The little distraction brought the asshole a precious second.


    And he used it to punch me square in the head. My helmet absorbed the impact and half of it shattered, revealing my sweaty-ass face underneath. I leered down at him, and despite my state, Aiden paused.


    I slammed my remaining helmet into his forehead, causing a sharp crack to echo throughout the training gym.


    Aiden wobbled backwards, his bell rung, and found my arms snug around his neck: a rear naked choke. He gasped, and as the choke tightened, that gasp sharply rose into a pained gurgle. Strange sounds garbled through his throat, words probably, that he couldn’t articulate nor do I want them to be articulated.


    “Tap!” I cried while he fruitlessly clawed at my [Gauntlets]. “Tap, don’t make me incap you!”


    I kicked the back of his leg and made him stand on one knee.


    “Don’t be stubborn, FB! Tap!” I kept the pressure as it stood, ensuring he heard the message without taking him out of the picture altogether. “Tap—!”


    From the corner of my eye, [Jiroku] twitched.


    As if controlled by strings, the fucking thing plowed into me with the force of a speeding scooter, knocking me off Aiden but I stayed on my feet.


    The man himself was keeled over, hands on his neck, coughing out thick clouds of steam. Despite having a close call with defeat, the experience seemingly made him angrier rather than satisfied or timid. Just what the hell could I do to extinguish that fire in his eyes?


    “You damned…” Aiden plucked his signature off the charred ground and used it to pick himself up. “Ugh…”


    He groped at his neck, wincing.


    “We done?” I asked.


    “As if!” The stubborn bastard raised [Jiroku]. “We’re not done ‘til one of us is incapped!”


    Familiar red flames swirled around his shoulders, but they didn’t form armor this time—it was the opposite. Dark maroon and crimson flushed his arms and enveloped his signature, twisting and morphing it, until [Jiroku] was unrecognizable from its original form. It looked demonic, having taken on the [Fire]’s rich yet dark color and grew a few inches longer.


    Christ, he was taking this too far.


    That thing could chop down a fucking tree in a single swing.


    I wasn’t sure if I was sweating more from my stuttering heart or the heat he was emitting. “FB, that’s enough! I think we both made our points very fucking clear—!”


    “I told you, Conq!” [Jiroku] further burst into flames, resembling a lance more than a greatsword. “We’re not leaving ‘til one of us is on the ground—!”


    [Yokai No.0 - Temari (手毬)]


    Well, Aiden got his wish.


    A strange, colorful soccer-ball flew from out of nowhere and unceremoniously knocked him to the ground. Just like that, all the tension vanished. I dispelled my [Mementos]. [Jiroku] returned to normal, the fires were extinguished, and Aiden looked incredibly confused—no, there was a different emotion on his face.


    That of sheer dread.


    “AIDEN BRAND!” cried the smaller, furious girl. “I leave you alone for one hour, you—!”


    Chie kicked Aiden while he was down; no doubt her tiny legs hurt worse than mine. He tried defending himself but her kicks got through regardless. Damn, I could learn a thing or two from her. Aiden pleaded and cried for mercy, trying to excuse himself, but Chie didn’t know the word. She kept kicking and kicking.Stolen story; please report.


    After exhausting enough of her fury, Chie clamped a hand on Aiden’s shoulder as he kneeled, his eyes downturned to the blackened and surprisingly intact floor. She said to me, “I-I’m sorry you had to see that, Alex. I repeatedly told Aiden to not do anything mean, but this…! This idiot—! Hey!”


    Chie pinched his ear, causing him to wince. “At least look at Alex while I’m apologizing!”


    “Alright, alright! Let go of my ear—!” Chie twisted. “—ow, okay! I got it! I got it!”


    She let go with an indignant huff. Aiden reluctantly faced me, staring at my collarbone rather than my two pits of silver.


    Chie clapped her hands together and bowed her head slightly. “I’m so, so, so, so sorry this happened! I knew Aiden might try something. I should’ve been more suspicious when he asked me to check out one of the tryouts, so this is completely on me. But please, don’t assume the worst! Everyone’s excited to have you and your family, but—!”


    “I get the message!” I exclaimed loud enough to prevent Chie from rambling. “I’m willing to let bygones be bygones if Aiden says the same words.”


    “Hmph.” Chie looked down at the offender in question, pouting. “Alex is letting you off easy, y’know.”


    Aiden puffed steam and burned holes through my collarbone. “Sorry,” he said as quietly and insincerely as humanly possible—


    “Is that all you got?!” Chie twisted his ear again, her hold so strong that she lifted Aiden back onto his feet. “You have to apologize!” (“I know—!”) “No, you don’t! An apology is an apology. Explain what you did wrong, say you’re sorry, and shake hands!”


    Aiden managed to slip free from Chie’s grasp. Despite everything I’d given him during our spat, his right ear was the worst of his injuries: it glowed a humiliating, painful red. He clenched his fists, stared at the ground for a couple seconds, and finally found the words and humility to meet the eyes of the man he’d tried incapping.


    “I’m… I’m sorry.” (“Good start!”) “I… I thought your family was too suspicious to ignore and also thought our GMs were taking this too lightly. So I wanted to find out for myself.” (“Against everyone’s advice.”) “Yeah, that, uh… I thought—I assumed you were dangerous to the team.”


    Chie coughed. “And you got your butt kicked by his sister.”


    “I wasn’t going to mention that—!” (“But it’s true!”) “—ugh. But yeah, that’s why I brought you here. If you did pose a threat…” Aiden shook his head, not wanting to finish that thought. “Never mind. I probably went too far this time. Sorry. My emotions got the better of me and that’s totally on me, mhm. There’s one thing I won’t apologize for, though.”


    Aiden firmly stood, his determined gaze against mine. “I still think the Shens are suspicious—” (“Aiden!”) “—but, let me finish, you’re more well-meaning than you look. During our fight, you held back, didn’t you?”


    I was suddenly cognizant of the sweat sticking to my [Loadout]. “I didn’t want to fight you in the first place, FB.”


    “Yeah.” His calloused hand rubbed the spot where I’d choked him. “I’ll admit: I underestimated you, Alex. You’re tough for a fresh Slayer, but it doesn’t mean the next time we fight will be easier.”


    I raised an eyebrow. “‘Next time’?”


    “What? I said it earlier: you guys are too suspect. Somebody has to remind you of your place—” Chie slapped his shoulder. “—this is how I’m apologizing! Are you gonna tell me I’m wrong?”


    “No, I—!” Chie frowned and rubbed her head. “How are you gonna stand there and threaten him again—?!”


    “It’s fine, Chie,” I said, raising a hand. “The last week has understandably been hectic for everybody, so I’ll accept the challenge—if it means FB here might eventually get a peace-of-mind.”


    Aiden rolled his eyes at my condescending. “Don’t get too cocky. I’m one of the strongest swords in the guild.”


    Haven’t I heard that once or twice before? I nodded. “Right.”


    Chie sighed. “I guess that resolves things, but both of you are forgetting one last important step!”


    Me and Aiden exchanged a mildly confused look, then we mutually looked back at Chie.


    She scoffed and crossed her arms. “The handshake! Both of you, shake hands and we’ll call it there!”


    If the boss says so.


    We sealed our promise with a firm, sweaty, and calloused handshake.


    “Alright, that’s done.” Aiden wiped the sweat off his robes. “I should, uh…” He glanced around at the partly-damaged training gym. “I should take pictures and catalog the damages…”


    After finishing his last sentence, vitality was sucked from his skin and he shambled to his handiwork. With his phone, he snapped pictures of every smudge, crack, and mark, wincing each time he hit the button as if making an expensive bank transaction. This definitely wasn’t the first time his emotions “got the better” of him.


    Chie watched him with me, and just now, I noticed the flying soccer-ball from earlier floating above her shoulder.


    I pointed at it. “Never seen that before.”


    “Huh—? Oh! I haven’t told you about my [Yokais] yet!” Chie held onto the so-called [Yokai] and presented it to me. “This is [Yokai No. 0: Temari], the first one I’ve created in the series. Each [Yokai] is based on, y’know, yokais and serves a different purpose. I want ‘em to help you guys in the field, sorta like mini-helpers if you get what I mean.”


    “I think I do, yeah.” So these [Yokais] were supportive drones. Interesting. “How many [Yokais] are under your belt?”


    “Uh.” Chie let go of [Temari] and began counting with her fingers, whispering names instead of numbers. After a few names, she stopped. “It’s complicated, but trust me when I say it’s a lot! For most of my [Yokais], Sophos has to vet and approve them before they can be added to my arsenal.”


    “Sophos?” I squinted at [Temari]. “You’re the team engineer; shouldn’t you make the last call instead of Sophos? Hell, Rector and Seraph too.”


    “I—oh, I haven’t told you that either, hehe…” Chie awkwardly scratched the back of her head. “I’ve been her apprentice for almost four years.”


    That was the most surprising piece of information I heard today. I’d say at least half of the swords at Wisdom Guild were actively fighting for some form of tutelage under Sophos; publicly, she hadn’t taken on an apprentice in the last seven years! How the fuck did everyone manage to cover this up for the last four?


    Wait, Chie was twenty. That meant she had impressed Sophos at sixteen.


    Now I started to feel insecure.


    Chie recognized the many questions on my face and laughed out of embarrassment. “I-I know, it’s not as serious as you think.”


    “I mean, studying under Sophos is on the bucket list for every magic- or magitech-oriented sword. What about Rector? I haven’t known him for long, but wasn’t he opposed to the decision at the beginning?”


    “He was more than ‘opposed,’ hehe.” Chie folded her arms at her midsection. “Sophos had to beg for days before he finally relented. Even then, he’d placed, like, a dozen restrictions.”


    I chuckled. “You were, what, sixteen? Hell, I’d be concerned about Sophos stealing one of my junior swords from me.”


    “Actually, that’s not why he was so—and still is—overprotective of me.” Chie focused on Aiden, who was snapping more incriminating pictures at the far-walls. “Rector is our adoptive guardian.”


    I did my best to not turn my head toward her.


    “I know Rector told you to not pry into our history, but I figured I oughta tell you because, well…!” Chie did a big, exaggerated shrug. “You should know something like that! We might be a Slayer Team on paper, but we’re actually a family of freaks who love each other more than anything. Me and Aiden especially...”


    How should I react to that information? For a start: empathy. I didn’t know what life Chie and Aiden had before meeting Angels—and despite what the former said, I wouldn’t ask—but they clearly were living better. There was this mesmerizing light in Chie’s eyes. You could only get that light when the stars were out, the birds were singing your favorite song, and every little thing brought smiles to your face. Everything was right in her world: her place, her future, her family.


    Although she and Aiden were Rector’s adoptive kids, an unmistakable shade of pink was clearly smitten on her cheeks as she watched the doofus walk around. That wasn’t the face of sibling love.


    Now I understand.


    What Rector said, he meant it literally.


    This team was a family.


    That’s why Aiden felt threatened by us, the Shens. We had suddenly intruded into his safe-space and brought in all sorts of uncertainty: who were we? What skeletons were we bringing? Could we really be trusted?


    Would we hurt Chie? Would we bring an end to Angels Guild? Would we destroy his family?


    If the roles were reversed… If I had to pick a strange family or mine, then that wasn’t a choice at all.


    I’d probably do the same thing he did but without a fight. More like obsessive stalking.


    I wonder, though...


    Would I ever be accepted?


    ***


    [Rector]


    My troublesome children, there’s a strange incident in World Falling Gabriel. Meet me there.


    [You have entered World Falling Gabriel]


    [Status: Stable]


    [Expedition Rank: E]


    [Management: Angels Guild]


    The job calls. Aiden couldn’t finish taking photos of the training gym before we were whisked away to an exped.


    This wasn’t my first time entering another world; my first was a supervised field trip during elementary school, courtesy of a local guild in the county. Since then, my experience with expeds amounted to videos, photos, and TV. When System Articles came into the picture, they became numbers and graphs.


    Standing in an actual exped was different from selling one through a screen. I’d never gotten a chance to sell a stable; for one, System Articles legally couldn’t because we didn’t have the proper licensing. For a good reason. Stables were a class of its own due to their rarity and intensely high demand. You had all the time in the literal world to do whatever you want. Harvest resources, perform dangerous experiments, hunt faunus, or all of the above. In our case, hosting training programs, simulations, or tests, such as the Feather Hunt.


    Examinees were randomly organized into teams; together, they were tasked to locate and nab fast-moving feathers in order to move onto the final stage. And of course, there were so many groups yet so few feathers.


    Falling Gabriel facilitated the best environment to test their skills. Basecamp was luckily situated in the middle of the wilderness. It had green forests, wide pastures, and dense hilltops; everything you needed to watch twenty-somethings tear each other’s teeth out. In fact, this world was near-identical to ours. I wasn’t quite sure if the mana in the air was natural or a consequence of magic machinery. Otherwise, that was the only evident difference. If you took a picture of the landscape and showed it to a random person on the street, they’d think it was a picture of Earth. Our Earth. Blue sky, a single sun and moon, birds sounded like birds and not mansnatchers. I’d be fooled too.


    But this Worldline was dead. Civilization had gone extinct a long time ago, and we were the advanced scavengers picking at the carcass.


    Basecamp looked and operated like a military camp. Everybody had their own missions. You had breakers, swords and mils, logistics—personnel dedicated to the Feather Hunt was a comically low fraction—the operation dedicated to keep Falling Gabriel functional was so complex that my brain couldn’t handle the information.


    “Over here,” Aiden beckoned me, making sure I wouldn’t get lost in the crowd.


    As we strode deeper into camp, more and more people recognized the three of us—or rather, recognized Aiden and Chie—and made way.


    Outside basecamp, we stood before a fairly large teleportation installment: a teleport hub, in simpler words. A house-sized mana crystal was the hub’s centerpiece, suspended high by cables and wires and levitation magic. Each cable and wire were connected to a circular platform of differing sizes. Some were small, capable of holding a squad of mils, and others were large enough to comfortably occupy a truck. You needed the variety.


    Only in stable Worldlines could you see something like this. In dissolving Worldlines, teleporting would get increasingly more dangerous as they got closer to their demise.


    Knowing that, I bet this thing was the most popular attraction in the entire base.


    Except for right now, because Rector was present. If he was here, one of two things happened: he was checking in, or something had gone terribly wrong. Hopefully, it was the former.


    Rector waited near one of the platforms; he saw us and smiled, and because he saw us, he stopped smiling.


    Because we were called on such short notice, Aiden and I didn’t have time to look presentable; as a result, he saw our fresh battle-wounds.


    Rector pointed a furious finger at us, he opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, he pointed to the platform. “Get your asses on the platform. We have a ‘highly-irregular breacher’ in Area G16, and I pray to the good Lord that you didn’t just come out of a ‘spar.’”