Tossing the scroll onto the bed, Asher glanced up, his skepticism clear.
"Considering how you act, I'm starting to doubt that." The digital Mori raised a low-quality eyebrow, his voice laced with amusement.
"Oh? Never thought you'd be skeptical of my abilities. Stopping time not enough for you?"
There was a familiar edge of amusement in Mori's tone. It was the kind Asher had grown accustomed to during his countless lives, a constant as Mori watched from the sidelines.
Asher's gaze shifted back down to the scroll on the bed.
"I don't doubt that you're not human. That's for sure. Whether you're a god, a cosmic being, or whatever else... I can't say I know for sure. But... you're not omnipotent. If you were all-powerful, you wouldn't be bothering with me just to kill time."
He paused, his fingers drumming on the side of his leg, "Not to mention, the Nexus Space is capable of gathering and assimilating information on you. It might still be in the early stages of percentage, but that means it's capable of comprehending you. Isn't that right?"
There was a brief silence. Mori hummed thoughtfully, as if mulling over the question. Then, his tone shifted, more serious and less childish than usual.
"You know, Asher, you're sharp. But you're still thinking too small. Omnipotence is just another box you're trapped in. But don't worry, that's something the Nexus Space can help with. I know you're trying to figure me out, so let me answer the question hanging in your mind. Yes, the Nexus Space can comprehend me. And... it might even help you get rid of me."
Asher paused, the admission catching him off guard, even if just for a second. Mori let his words linger, then shifted back to his playful tone.
"But that's in the future. Don't worry about it now. You didn't even notice the weirdness after you woke up in the hospital." Mori's words struck a chord, Asher's mind snapped back to the first thing Mori had said when he appeared on his scroll—that he'd missed something small.
Something important.
Frowning as his mind raced with possibilities of what he could have missed, Asher asked, "What do you mean?"
"Nothing, nothing," Mori replied with a chuckle.
"I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually. And once you do, when you start pushing the limits... that's when the real game begins. But for now, how about I give you a little trial run? A taste of what's to come." Asher narrowed his eyes, suspicion creeping in. This wasn't the first time Mori had mentioned a game, but it was the first time he was offering any real details.
Part of Asher wanted to shut him down before it even started, but the curiosity was there.
"What's this trial run?" Mori's avatar giggled in a mischievous tone.
"I knew you'd be interested. It's simple, really. You've played RPGs before, haven't you? Wait... no, you haven't. Hmm, well, you're smart. I'm sure you can gather the context clues." On the scroll, a small flat screen appeared before Mori's digital figure, the word [Quest] in bold letters across it.
"I'm going to give you a task. A simple mission. Complete it, and you'll get a reward. Not just one, but three options to choose from when you're done. Of course, I can't spoil what they are, but trust me, they're special. Not as impressive as that little space inside your mind, but still. Think of them as... boons, to help you on your journey to save the world or whatever."
Asher didn't respond immediately, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized Mori through the screen of his scroll.
Rewards? If Mori's calling them special, they must be worth something. But it all depends on what he wants me to do.
"What do you want me to do?" Asher asked, his tone flat, but the digital Mori simply shook his head, his image flickering slightly as if in a low-framerate glitch.
"No spoilers," Mori teased.
"You'll only find out if you accept. But, I can tell you this—since it's just a trial run, there's no major penalty if you fail." Asher's eyes narrowed as he caught the way Mori phrased it.
No major penalty... but that doesn't mean there's none. And who knows what Mori, of all things, considers "major"?
Asher couldn't deny that he was curious about these rewards. If they could make his path forward a little easier, he would be lying if he said the temptation didn't tug at him. But the risk of blindly accepting a deal, with no clear idea of what was behind it, was too much, especially when dealing with a being that thrived on mischief.
"I refuse," Asher stated firmly, reaching for the scroll on the bed, ready to turn it off. But before he could, Mori spoke again, his voice carrying something new.
"Did I mention the rewards can be gifted? For example, to your little girlfriend, or even your parents. Unlike the things of this world, the gifts I offer are... higher up on the metaphorical power scale. They could make someone stronger, or even potentially keep a select few safe, even if the cataclysm comes and you fail."
Mori's voice dropped, lowering to a near whisper, and Asher froze, his hand suspended in midair as his eyes locked onto Mori's pixelated ones. The smirk on Mori's avatar was unmistakable.
"Hehe… There it is. That softer part of you. Even after rejecting so much from your life, pushing so much away, you couldn't do it, could you? Not fully. Even though you haven't seen them for who knows how long, you still care about your parents. And even if you don't love her, you've grown attached to that girl." Mori laughed again, an almost haunting sound.
"Care, affection... It's one of the only parts of you I didn't manage to hammer out over all those lives. One of the few flaws in your existence that I couldn't quite correct. It's dulled, sure, but not gone. I guess that's good, though. Keeps things interesting. If I made you a perfect player with no flaws, you'd be boring to watch."
Mori stood up from the blocky chair he'd been sitting in, turning toward the screen, facing Asher.
"So, do you accept?" Mori asked, his tone suddenly cheerful again.
Asher was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the screen. For the first time, there was a flicker of true emotion in his voice, breaking through the mask he always wore when around others.
"I despise you." The words came out with a raw hatred, not visible on his face, but clear in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched as he stared at Mori through the screen.
"Hahaha... Good. I'll take that as your agreement then." Mori's voice was dripping with amusement. The moment the words left his mouth, Asher's scroll powered down on its own, the screen fading away as it closed, and with it, Mori vanished from sight.
But Asher still heard Mori's voice echoing in his head, like his own thoughts.
"I made this task simple for you, something tied to what you're already doing. The people you're searching for, the ones who helped the White Fang pull off their operation. When you find them, you're not going to arrest them or hand them over to the general. No… I want you to kill them. Brutally. Fear and relief should be the only things they crave when they die."
Asher frowned, his fingers tightening before he spoke, "Why do you-"
But Mori cut him off, his tone sharp.
"You haven't shown anyone yet, have you? The you, beneath that act you put on to make yourself seem like you're still a normal person. Think of this as your chance to cut loose. Of course, this isn't about some weird sense of justice, or me wanting to watch a gruesome show, though I'll admit, I will be looking forward to it."
"No. Believe me, Asher, this will help you just as much as it entertains me. It'll make you realize what you've failed to see until now. Anyway, good luck… and try to have fun. Or fake it, you're good at that, aren't you?" With those final words, Mori's voice faded from Asher's mind, leaving behind the eerie silence of his room.
He stood there, unmoving, unsure of how long it had been—he didn't bother checking. His mind was elsewhere, lost in thoughts that only snapped back into focus when a knock came at the door, followed by a voice.
"Young Master, I've brought your lunch." It was Lavi's voice, cheerful and sharp—a stark contrast to both Asher and the thing that had been with him moments ago, the thing that liked pretending to be a child.
Asher didn't move immediately. Instead, he lifted his head to stare at the ceiling, taking a slow, deep breath as he ran both hands over his face and then through his hair. Once he'd finished, he exhaled with a soft sigh.
When he turned back toward the door, his face had transformed into a warm, friendly smile, his eyes bright as he said, "Sorry about that, Lavi, I was just writing something down."
He walked over to the door, unlocked it, and let her in. Lavi made her way toward Asher's desk, placing the tray she was carrying down carefully.
"I was informed you were craving fish, so the chefs prepared Mistrali Miso-Glazed Snowfish," Lavi explained, gesturing toward the plate. The fish was beautifully presented on a black ceramic dish, its perfectly filleted flesh glistening under a thick butter that shimmered pearlescent beneath a golden-brown glaze.
The glaze was a blend of white miso, honey dust, and a hint of sake.
The fish had been broiled to perfection, its edges crisp and delicate. On the plate, pickled lotus root flanked it like wings, and beside it sat a near dome of steamed ginger rice, dotted with scallions and black sesame.
"The chefs said it would be best to drink it with water, to preserve the flavor," Lavi added.
"But I can get you something else if you'd prefer, Young Master." Asher shook his head, walking past her and settling at his desk.
"No, I'll go with the chef's recommendation. Thank you, Lavi. I appreciate it. And please, give my compliments to them."
"Oh, of course, Young Master." Lavi paused, her tone light with playful curiosity.
"You seem like you're in a very good mood today. Did something happen before I arrived?" Asher stared silently at his food for a moment before glancing up at her.
"No, not really."
=====================================•=====================================
December 11th, 2033
Atlas Academy was a strange place—a blend of a school built to train the next generation of Huntsmen, and a hub for both the Atlas Military and the kingdom's government.
The central tower of Atlas Academy soared over two hundred floors.
The first few floors housed barracks for both students and fully-trained Huntsmen, with the administration offices positioned above them. As you ascended higher, you reached areas that required increasingly higher clearance levels, all the way up to Ironwood's office at the top, where the more bureaucratic matters of Atlas were handled.
But while going up meant dealing with the more administrative aspects of Atlas Academy, the government, and the military, going down—into the depths beneath the academy and the kingdom—led to the Atleasian Military Compound.
That was where Indigo and the others were headed now. All eight of them stood in an elevator, descending into the lower levels.
They weren't wearing their usual outfits but instead were dressed in sleek, minimalist gear—form-fitting, matte black. The contrast to the white uniforms typically worn by the Atlas Military was stark. On the left shoulder of each uniform was a sigil representing their unit's mark: an arrowhead with a hollowed-out center and a dot at its center.
For Indigo, the dot was gold; for Gray, it was silver; and for the others, it was bronze. The varying colors denoted their ranks. Additionally, each of them had badges clipped to their belts, authorizing them to access areas that were normally off-limits.
Indigo tugged at her collar, shifting uncomfortably as she said, "Well, it's official. If anyone back home saw us dressed like this, I'm pretty sure we'd get stabbed."
"Stabbed is being generous," Gray muttered, letting out a self-pitying laugh.
"At least they're comfortable. And honestly, I kinda like the design," Sterling chimed in, tapping the tips of his boots against the elevator floor.
"Yeah, it feels breathable too. I always hated how white the Atlas Military uniforms were—made them feel so elitist," Jade added.
Gray turned to her with a dry expression and replied, "They are elitist. Pretty sure that's the whole point."
Cobalt's voice cut through the conversation.
"Considering we've been trained, given salaries, and are now part of some secret special ops team, I'd say we're elitists too." His words fell heavy in the elevator, making everyone fall silent. This wasn't a place any of them had imagined being back when they were just running robberies on the streets.
Indigo broke the silence, her voice a little sarcastic but laced with acceptance.
"Well, here's to the next year of our lives." The elevator came to a halt as the doors slid open, revealing a long, sleek metal hallway. White strips of light were embedded into the walls and ceilings, casting a soft glow that reflected off the silver metal finish.
As they stepped out, soldiers and technicians moved about the area. Many of them didn't recognize the Insurgency's uniforms, but a quick glance at their badges was enough for their eyes to snap away and refocus on their own tasks. Gray noticed this and let out a quiet breath, the tension in his posture easing slightly.
Well, at least we're not getting stared at like we did around the academy—or hell, even in Mantle.
"It should be this way," Indigo said to the group as she took the lead, trying to recall the map they had been given in their quarters. It took a few minutes of walking and a couple of wrong turns, but eventually, they found the door they were looking for.
The room inside was well-lit, though not particularly large—about ten by ten meters at most.
As soon as they entered, they saw the familiar tube-like chambers lined up on the left and right walls, four on each side. In the center of the room, eight chairs were arranged in a slight arc, all facing a projector screen on the front wall.
Standing by the screen, as expected, was Asher, his hands behind his back and a welcoming expression on his face.
"You're a bit late," he remarked, his tone slightly teasing.
"We didn't bring the map with us, and this place is a literal maze," Indigo shot back as she and the others took their seats.
"Fair enough," Asher replied. One of his hands emerged from behind his back, holding a remote. With a click of a button, the lights dimmed, and the projector whirred to life.
"All of you have gone through your training and produced satisfying results. You're officially Insurgents, and as such, I'll be briefing you on your first mission." Asher's voice was firm, lacking the usual playfulness. The change was palpable, and the group sat up straighter, sensing the shift.
Seeing that they were paying attention, Asher nodded, then pressed a button on the remote. The projector flickered to life, displaying a report on the screen.
"On October 17th, 2033, at approximately 17:45 Atlesian Standard Time, the Nebula Noir—a privately operated airship restaurant—was hijacked during a scheduled flight through Atlas-controlled airspace. The perpetrators have been identified as members of the White Fang. All individuals directly involved in the hijacking are either deceased or currently in military custody."
As Asher spoke, he noticed Cobalt, sitting to his right, raise his hand. Asher nodded, permitting him to speak.
"Is this the same flight you were on?" Cobalt asked.
Asher nodded again.
"That's right. But don't think of this as me using you all for revenge. This isn't a personal vendetta, and you'll see why in a moment." With that, Asher switched away from the incident report and brought up another document.
"Upon being hijacked, the airship, according to protocol, went into an emergency state, which should have triggered an emergency signal back to Atlas, alerting them to the situation on board. But not only was that signal never received, all attempts to communicate with Atlas were blocked and scrambled."
Indigo and the others exchanged surprised glances. That piece of information hadn't been disclosed to the public.
"I don't think I need to tell any of you that Atlas takes its security very seriously—especially when it comes to the CCTS," Asher continued.
"If this had been an external jamming issue, it would've been detected by the security measures the Atlas Military has in place. Meaning, the only way for this to go undetected for so long is if someone directly hacked into or gained access to the CCT Network." At that, Gray spoke up, his voice skeptical.
"But that's impossible."
Asher glanced at him, raising a brow. Gray paused, realizing his mistake. With a short sigh, he raised his hand. Asher gestured for him to continue.
"As I was saying, that's impossible," Gray continued, his tone still filled with disbelief.
"There may be some Faunus who've made it into Atlas, but they're rare, and most of them come from established families. None of those types would risk helping the White Fang, and even fewer would have the authorization to interfere with the CCTS." The group exchanged looks, silently agreeing with him.
It was a simple fact that Faunus didn't hold many positions of power in Atlas—certainly not enough to pull off something like this.
"You're right," Asher responded, turning back to the projector and flipping to the next slide.
"Which is why we're confident that a human group is supporting the White Fang, and we're not talking about activists." The new slide showed a list of Faunus captured during the hijacking. While some of the names had no records, there was one detail that stood out to everyone.
"Nearly a quarter of them are from the crater..." Indigo muttered under her breath, her eyes fixed on the "origin" section of the profiles.
"Correct," Asher said, his tone as sharp.
"This means the White Fang are recruiting right here in Atlas, in the crater. It's not rare for the White Fang to be active in Atlas, but until now, they've never been this bold, or this well-prepared. Someone's backing them, funding their operations, and somehow keeping the fact that they're operating in the crater hidden."