9:43 AM, Thorns Complex, Southern Deci
I grumbled awake hearing the loud yet monotone sound of my alarm. My first thoughts were to throw something at it and keep sleeping, but that simply wouldn't work. The alarm the Thorns had given me didn't care about gently pulling me from my slumber, its only goal was to wake me up as quickly, and probably as uncomfortably, as possible. That didn't stop me from chucking my pillow at the machine that wouldn't stop screeching for the next 30 minutes.
The sleep slowly faded from my eyes noticing that the alarm really wouldn't stop. I sighed and sat up on my bed, letting the memories of the past few days rush back to me.
The Executioner, my abduction, Wellan, being forced to partake in a possibly dangerous investigation, becoming a "leader", all these things flashed through my mind. The exact date eluded me, but from what I heard, I had been unconscious for several days after my fight with the Executioner.
That meant Gelda had been left by herself for several days!
My panic rose when I thought that the safety measure I had given her, a Nexi known as Thula, might be rendered useless by this place's Anti-Nexi field.
"Hey!"
I jumped hearing the surprisingly cheerful voice. My eyes darted around the room, yet I could see nothing.
The lamp's poor illumination didn't help as anything that hid in the shadows seemed to evade my gaze. The dark spot that should've been my bed's shadow hid when I tried to look at it, and the same happened to any darkness I tried looking at. It felt like I was still sleeping, pulled into a bizarre nightmare.
"Over here," The voice called, right next to my ear.
I turned to face the wall to my left and saw a pair of illusory eyes. Outlined in shadows, the grey in Elena Grace's eyes shone bright. Even without a nose to rest on, Elena's large, round glasses hung in front of her eyes. It almost made me laugh that she needed them in this state, but I couldn't bring myself to do it; I was too scared of the lady who seemed to be a living shadow.
Her lack of lips made the stark contrast between malice and benevolence less pronounced, making it easier to look her in the eyes.
"H-hello," I said, trying hard to hide the panic in my voice.
"Did you sleep well?" She asked, her voice brimming with the cheerfulness it usually held.
I thought back to the dreamless sleep I had and responded honestly, "Yes, surprisingly, I slept really well."
Though I couldn't see it, I could feel that she was smiling.
"That's wonderful to hear! Today, F-4 starts the bonding period before the investigation starts, hope you're ready." Despite her angular eyes that swirled with malice, her tone was like that of a child on their first day of school.
"F-4?" I asked, spotting the unfamiliar term.
"It's the name the Thorns gave us, though I don't know what it stands for."
I nodded, of course we had a name. For some reason, it bothered me more than it should have. Maybe it was the stress of not knowing Gelda's situation that was weighing on my mood, maybe it was the fact that I was being forced to lead this "F-4" without any prior leadership experience, maybe it was something else.
Regardless of the reason, I was pissed off.
I took a deep breath to calm myself and thanked Elena, her headache-inducing smile could be felt even through the wall that separated us, before her two illusory eyes disappeared.
Alone, I could now think of an escape plan.
I have to escape as quickly as possible, that means getting over this "bonding period" as quickly as possible. Once that's done, we'll probably be sent to investigate outside the Anti-Nexi field, and from there, once I'm far enough, I'll escape. I'll take Gelda and we'll move to the south…
I don't doubt that this place has gaps in the Anti-Nexi field for training and the likes but using those to escape seems risky to me, it's too close to the Thorns to feel like they couldn't just track me down. That said, I have no proof that they can't track me down no matter how I escape, I just have to pick the safest route…
Thinking about getting over this bonding period, how should I do it? If James' methods are to be trusted, the fastest way to make a bunch of strangers work together is to give them a common goal or enemy. I remember him doing this once to get a bunch of Nexiless fools to try fighting a guy with a Tier I. He thought it was funny the way they'd throw themselves at him just to die. He also used this method to lead a bunch of chickens to their deaths. Man, that guy was f**ked up!
Using James' method as a blueprint, it wasn't hard to come up with a plan. I didn't know anything at all about my teammates, with the exception of Elena, but finding something that they could come to hate wasn't too hard. My time with James had taught me a few things, and amongst them was the fact that humans naturally envied people in positions of power.
And who had the most power in F-4?
The leader, Me.
With that as a stepping stone, I could tap into their ego and force them to work towards a common goal without even realizing it.
The only problem was that the common goal I had in mind was very risky.
…
I spent the rest of the day tweaking my plan, making it more akin to an elaborate play than an escape plan. I had to not only form a bond between these strangers but also gain their trust; the fastest way to do that was to create the illusion of competence.
Something I hadn't learned directly from James but from my time fighting in the Fever Dream was that competence usually came with confidence. If someone was competent in something, they'd usually be confident in it as a result.
Which could also be seen as if someone was confident in something, then they must obviously equally be competent in it. This was how I intended on creating the illusion of competence, I just had to make sure my confidence didn't fall into the realm of arrogance.
Not long later, a little past noon, I was called by Wellan. I was led into a large room with a glass dome ceiling that let the sun in. In the room was a giant battleground platform raised just a few inches above the ground. I could imagine the battles its worn-out tiles had seen, smell the blood that had dripped on its floors, and hear the sound of fist on fist or blade on blade. This was a training field in the truest sense, I place where warriors were forged.
Snapping myself out of my reveries, I walked towards the platform. On it were six figures, my teammates.
The first to catch my eye was Elena. The white lace bonnet she wore curved protectively around her head, like the halo of an angel of fabric made just for her. Under her chin, a soft satin ribbon tied into a bow blended perfectly into the cloud colored top of her bodice, making a sharp contrast with its onyx lower half. A waterfall of black fabric made up the skirt that covered her fair legs, stopping just barely above her black Mary Jane shoes. In one hand she held an ivory white parasol while the other lay politely at her side.
I smiled at her, a silent thanks for her visit not only this morning but the night before.
Next to her was a man who was her complete opposite. His face was a little long, and his messy blond hair was held back by a red headband. Those long golden locks framed his emerald green eyes that seemed to shine with youth, a provocative grin was drawn on his face. The clothes he wore resembled Elena's, not in appearance but in the fact that they both seemed to be pulled from another age. He wore a green shirt with padded leather armor over it, making him look like an adventurer of old with all the belts and straps that looked messy yet organized, as if each served a specific purpose known only to the adventurer.
Looking next to him, I was surprised that the lady at his side also had a distinct appearance. Her most pronounced feature was the elegant helmet on her head. It vaguely held the resemblance of a bird and a viscous beast, but what exactly it was trying to resemble was unclear. The main colors of not only her helmet but the rest of her clothing were blue, bronze, and red, with a little bit of white thrown in there. Her foreign-looking clothes seemed built for the desert, and at her hip was a blade that curved into waves from the hilt to the tip.
The only two that appeared normal were a dark skinned man with his serpentine hair tied in a ponytail and a lady in robes who seemed decently advanced in age. The man wore a white dress shirt with a vest over it, throwing a suit on his shoulders to broaden his rather skinny frame. On both his hands were a pair of black gloves.
The lady, on the other hand, wore only an elegant robe that seemed rather expensive; she had grey voluminous hair and deep wrinkles.
The last member of F-4 didn't even look human. He was a giant, bordering on 220 cm. He tried wearing a dress shirt, but it bulged under the tension of his huge muscles, threatening to break. His bicep alone was the size of my head. On his otherwise hairless face was a mustache akin to that of a 90s cartoon villain.