“…Flair? Interesting.”
“Hm? Say something?”
“I said that’s there’s a fly. It’s distressing.”
Flair.
The human equivalent of a nightmare’s Epithet Skill. Unlike Epithet Skills, however, Flairs were not based on names. Flairs weren’t based on anything. They could be genetic and transfer across family. They could be random mutations that occurred. They could be a result of personality, conviction or faith. They could be created after undergoing great stress and torture.
Neo’s Flair was dubbed [Mana Eye]. It wasn’t particularly powerful. It could be obscured easily by objects, which was why he never saw me while I was hiding in the stall. All it did, was create a colored outline that corresponded to an individual or object’s magic capacity.
So, he hadn’t seen me after all.
His last memories were of entering the bathroom and encountering a floating, human-like mass of glowing dark red magic. He’d known I was a nightmare by the color. Darker colors indicated darker, more corrupt magic, whereas lighter colors meant the inverse.
How unfortunate for you, Neo.
Still, I was amused. What were the odds of encountering a person who just so happened to have a skill that would be capable of circumventing my invisibility?
If Alamir possessed gods and demons, there was no reason to believe fate, chance, and providence was not equally real. I remembered the words of the [Comicality] user: Thy purpose, from creation till cessation is already determined. A nightmare must be as a nightmare is to be.
I didn’t like it. The idea of someone else determining my future was irritating.
“What’s up with you?”
Vik jabbed me in the ribs with his shoulder.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re making a constipated face. What’s eating you?”
I tried not to chortle. Poor choice of words there friend. “I’ve been thinking.”
The boy sniggered. “Since when?”
“Fuck off Vistorel.”
Vik let out an obnoxious laugh. I forced myself to roll my eyes. For so long I’d been dealing with ancient beings and nightmares that I’d almost forgotten what it was like to have a conversation with a person that wasn’t several hundred years old.
Navigating through Sector One-Zero-One, I tried to keep my amazement at the infrastructure in check. I felt as if I was in an entirely different world from the one I had gotten accustomed to. Men and women moved about in uniforms with military judiciousness, paying no heed to the massive manmade marvels of smoothly paved streets, conical and prism-like buildings, towers which resembled mobius strips –
There were individuals, hovering above the ground, as they moved from place to place, with a digital screen in front of them they activated by touch. There were tiny golem-like creatures with glowing eyes and vacuums for hand, going about vanishing dirt from pathways. There were lights = lights and lampposts which seemed to be tied to tiny rocks that emitted energy.
Soldiers patrolled Sacrosanct Rifles in their hands, the devices having different variations and settings. Neo’s memories told me that attached to the hips of the soldiers were Sacrosanct Sabers as a secondary weapon and shrunken Saint Shields. Every soldier was equipped with a gun, a sword, and a shield along with their uniform.
Each of those weapons possessed concentrated Holy Magic. As an Undead creature, those weapons were extremely dangerous. I might as well be a regular civilian in an armed complex filled with trigger-happy soldiers.
Lucky me.
“Vik, do you know anything about Remitech?”
The blond teen rose his brow at me. “You mean other than how we’re too broke to afford it?”
“Other than that.”
Neo’s memories on the subject were little to nonexistent. He knew it was a blanket term for something developed by the Eminency of Progress, but beyond that, the boy did not know anything on the topic. The cheapest gadget, a Slate, was over twenty thousand manna, a sum enough to feed a family of five for a full year.
Vik rubbed the back of his head. “When we move up from Middlings to Prominents, maybe we’ll be able to know what all the hype is about. For now, forget about that shit and just focus on killing monsters and raising your level. You’re what, still like three… four levels behind me?”
“Three.”
The taller boy patted me on the back. “You gotta catch up Saintarelli. If you’re going to be dead weight, I’ll cut you off and find someone with more drive to hang with.”
My lips pressed softly together. Charming. “Like Sophia?”
“Fuck that bitch.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’ve made that intention clear several times.”
Vik clicked his tongue. “Bitch fucking woke us up by splashing water on us, remember? From day one she’s been acting high-and-fucking mighty. She probably thinks she’s better than us just cause her dad is a High Eminent. I’ll show her.”
The memory of that day came clear from Neo’s mind along with something else. Bunk beds… roommates? Co-ed showers and living spaces? I almost laughed. Whose wise idea to let a group of hormone-riddled teenagers live, eat and sleep in the same place?
I could smell all aspects of their physiology. A significant portion of individuals I could perceive were pent up with sexual energy. Vik standing beside me was one such individual.
Well… now, is there a way I can use this to my advantage?
Finding a method of escape was important, but not nearly as important as learning more about the enemy, and searching for a way that I would steal Hoplite’s blood.
Can I use my [Duality] here?
Splitting timelines to give Vik the slip and search for more information would be the smart thing to do, however, things had changed a bit. As the cowardly me had once pointed out, [Duality] was no longer absolute. I had to be cautious, now. If Giggles was capable of sensing my ability to split timelines, it was no longer in the realm of the impossible for someone else to do so. It was almost guaranteed now, that others could do so.
I think I’ll wait a
