“And that’s how it’s done. If I can place a checkmark where I’ve last been, I can essentially return to that point of origin.”

  Jumkou mused, sitting down on the now-belonging-to her pilot seat, twirling the plastic straw on her mouth. It was now a matter of time before they reached the Testharian space zone.

  Flynnigan opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, searching for a foothold in the conversation. He landed on the only thing that felt genuine.

  “…Huh. So… That’s how you saved Sachiel Eria?”

  Jumkou flicked her nail against the straw, producing a ping-y noise. “I don’t remember much of it myself, but I assume from what he said, that is what happened. Think of it like a save point in a video game… Powerful, isn’t it?”

  “Powerful… is an understatement.” Flynnigan sat down on his own personal seat, gazing into the snowy white planet that was Testharia. They were near.

  “Nasse, are we almost there?”

  - Yes. In fact—you have now entered Testharian atmosphere. –

  It said.

  “Oh, finally! Hey Flynn, come look at this.” She beckoned him over to the windshield of the ship. He saw Testharia in its full glory... better said, Tristate City.

  Beautiful high-rise towers basking in orange and blue colours, big buildings and high decorative roads with a main road that connects the Eria Tower outside lobby to the main docking station.

  Landing pads as big as a city hall, trains that go ten times faster than commercial airliners on Earth.

  Tristate City, the city of tomorrow.

  “Let’s park her where she belongs, eh?” Jumkou flew the ship steadily with the help of Nasse. Still unfamiliar with ship controls, the assisted flight control initiated by Nasse helped steer the ship into the 55th floor of the tower.

  The hangar.

  -

  - Great Kamisword. I am informing you about the arrival of Jumkou Katatoria and her newfound companion, Flynnigan Shotaro. Both are unharmed. -

  “Jumkou has done it? Amazing.” He smiled, sitting on his office chair. It wasn’t too surprising for him at the very least. After all, he did put a lot of trust on her.

  She’s from the future; it would be far-fetched to think she wouldn’t know how to locate him.

  No, that would be insulting. Far more insulting, like spewing fire onto an already cauterized wound.

  Sachiel Eria reached for a glass of chilled water, turning the chair to face the panoramic view beyond his office.

  Testharia, and its capital, Tristate City, had been his lifelong preoccupation. his holy abode and personal prison, depending on the hour. How could Azrael have felt homesick even when he manufactured such a perfect world? For himself and his wife. How did he find the sight of Tristate City insulting? The perfection itself was insulting to him, something that Sachiel also felt subconsciously.

  The networks worked too well.

  The climate domes functioned at exactly the right hues and pressures.

  The people, even when angry, radiated a kind of sanitized politeness that made violence seem like a manufacturing defect.

  The protective barrier that Tristate City enlightened upon the citizens like a known divine intervention.

  Was Sachiel just a God amongst Men? God, it’s insulting to think about himself as a God. Let God smite the ‘God’ that he thinks of himself as a God. Calling himself one tasted… obscene. Hubris that deserved punishment. In that slight moment, he felt himself slipping, becoming like Azrael Eria.

  How he finds solace and peace in a foreigner he just met weeks ago.

  How he feels better just talking to Jumkou instead of talking to his council or taking care of intragovernmental issues.

  .:. “I want to go home, Sachiel. This place, albeit perfect, is no place for an imperfect man.” .:.

  .:. “... Why do you destroy your mind with such musings?” .:.

  .:. “My true home is where I belong. Your people look at me with confusion, racism. I built a perfect world, yet I do not belong.” .:.

  ...

  .:. “The people need you.” .:.

  .:. “No, Sachiel. They do not need me, I do not need them. They need a true-blooded, albeit half to lead a Testharian world.” .:.

  Rias Kranz, the mother of Sachiel Eria was a Testharian full bred born in Tyksa and Akasaka Shouichi; Testharianized named Azrael Sentari, later Azrael Eria, was just a human born in Osaka II in Neo-Japan.

  Testharians were kind enough to accept half-breeds, because it still meant being pure-bred against humans that claimed they belonged here.

  .:. “Do not make the same mistake I did. You have no connection to the outside... do not let foreigners cloud your mind like they did mine.” .:.

  .:. “Okay, Greatfather.” .:.

  ...

  “I am just like you.”

  He stood up, carefully stacking the paperwork on his table before tossing the drink in the bin. As he reached for the doorhandle, another voice invaded his thoughts.

  “That man followed his own judgement and suddenly it is a bad thing. It is human to be free and do what you need to do. Isn’t it, Eria?”

  It was his Soul speaking. Sachiel was one of the rare individuals who could communicate directly with his Soul, a feat not many achieved or were deemed worthy of by the Rim of the Universe Gods.

  His Soul was unique, something that both comforted and unnerved him.

  “I allow you no attention as I am too tired to hear about your baseless, twisted remarks about my Greatfather.”

  “Do you believe that to be free is to be evil?”

  “What brings you to such a conclusion?” Sachiel’s frustration grew.

  “It seems like in your ‘perfect’ world, those who follow their own intuition are doomed.”

  His Soul’s voice echoed within him. Sachiel clenched his fists, the warmth of anger blowing hotter at his Soul’s accusation.

  “Your old man wished to be free. To me, that is a glorious leader.”

  “A glorious leader?” Sachiel turned, locking eyes with his Soul as the reality around him twisted into a vision of stark black and white. This was not happening in real life, but a scene his Soul projected onto his mind.

  His Soul sat calmly on the office chair, unaffected by Sachiel’s growing anger and confusion.

  “I bend to your will like a slave, Eria. My own being does not allow me to double-cross you, as much as I might desire to. I do ask you to entertain me a bit more.”

  The Soul chuckled, casting a gaze over Sachiel’s paperwork.

  “It gets a bit tiring to hear your constant, depressing whining about your Greatfather. He is dead, what you are doing is of your own actions. Let it all go.”

  “You have no right to tell me what to do, Nunri!”

  Nunri, so that was his Soul’s name.

  “Words, words and words… papers, papers and more papers… You’re following your greatfather’s footsteps. You are growing affectionate of foreigners more than your own people. Azrael thought that was normal, are you more of a racist than you are accepting?”

  “… What do you know?”

  Nunri eyed down. “I know not how humans function, but I can draw conclusions.”

  Sachiel hesitated, his silence a mixture of defiance and reflection.

  “Jumkou Katatoria, she tells more than she shows. But this Flynnigan Shotaro human…heh. Intriguing. I am interested to see how this plays out. Until next time, Eria.”

  Sachiel stood there, torn between his loyalty to his past and the uncertainty of his future, unsure where his own path was laid down.

  With a wave of Nunri’s hand, the reality returned to normal. All colours present in the common wavelength returned and the door was opened.

  Sachiel closed his eyes and opened them again, gritting his teeth. He stepped out of his office. He walked over to the fridge present in the lobby room and took out a carbonated drink, a stark opposite of what he usually takes.

  “…”

  It was clear that a lot was weighing him down. While Jumkou Katatoria was out of town, he got a not so fun visit from Lord Veyron himself.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  Something about a galactic battle royale, even he thought that was a joke. Besides that, Veyron also came to talk about the well-being of Dark Intrinium soldiers roaming freely in Tristate City outskirt’s outposts.

  Sachiel Eria decided against putting soldiers in the city centre should Dark Intrinium invade them anytime soon.

  For Sachiel, he half-expected it would happen, but he also thought the idea would not happen.

  Testharia is a strong planet with the most patriotic people in existence.

  It would be stupid for Lord Veyron to invade Testharia.

  Unless he is really confident in his own abilities and his peers, he’ll do nothing to his perfect world.

  Dark Intrinium has an almost perfect record, with only one recorded loss against Soul-Core in the Battle of Ambrecia and Zagashida. That makes them all the more dangerous to face off against.

  Because when Dark Intrinium is fighting, they fight not just to conquer:

  But to leave no man alive to know what the world once was before the new reign.

  -

  “Alright, here we are.” Jumkou stepped out of the ship, taking in the nice, well-lit hangar, filled with white soundproof panels filling the walls.

  Flynnigan stepped out of the ship, looking around the hangar. He was more taken aback than Jumkou was, now that she was used to the ‘perfect’ image of everything.

  “Wow...”

  That’s all that came out of Flynnigan’s mouth.

  The insane attention to detail to the glass and the stainless steel bars. The intricate carvings on the wood.

  Perplexing.

  “Welcome back, Jumkou.” Asheera said, keeping her professionalism whilst being a bit triggered. She woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.

  Arguing with Sachiel proved to be of no help to her psyche either.

  “Hey!” Jumkou waved.

  “That’s the wonder boy?” She looked over to Flynnigan, who was still looking around. To Asheera, he looked like an ordinary young man.

  Like a tourist.

  Except he was neither of those.

  “A-ah!” Flynnigan noticed Asheera waiting for a greeting. “My name is F-Flynnigan Shotaro!” He bowed nervously, not trying to do anything stupid.

  The one thing he got right that all foreigners fail to do is to bow at the royalty. That’s already a huge step better than some foreigners.

  Even if he did it by pure instinct and fear, it helped in his favour.

  Asheera chuckled. “Not bad for a first impression.” She bowed back, higher than he did as an indicator that she was of higher authority.

  Of course she was, she is the Viceroy of Testharia. You would be crazy not to bow to her. You would be crazier to bow higher than her, though. That will give you a prison sentence.

  Testharians are, petty enough, very intolerant of anything deemed disrespectful to their title, name and honour.

  Flynnigan was sweating away, picking it up quickly. He got the memo, and he knew not to break it.

  “You guys must be hungry and tired from the long journey.” She took a step back, showing them the elevator.

  “Yeah, we are...” Jumkou rubbed her stomach in a comedic fashion, walking to the elevator.

  Flynnigan followed shortly, walking stiff with his chest all puffed out, all in an attempt to look ‘formal’.

  As the elevator door opened in front of them, she entered, using her personal keycard to set the elevator to Floor 128.

  “I would like to advise you to exercise caution, especially in the elevators. They go up and down at incredible speeds.”

  She turned to Flynn, knowing full well what the aftermath would be.

  “...Eh- AH!”

  The moment the elevator doors closed, the elevator would shoot 3 floors up every second. The g-force forced him down onto the floor.

  It wouldn’t be too long before Jumkou grabbed him, holding him up for the entire duration of the ride.

  “... Thanks...”

  Asheera and Jumkou looked at each other, smiling.

  “The wonder boy, eh?”

  “Indeed he is.”

  Exactly 24 seconds later, they were on Floor 128. The elevator doors opened, with Asheera jumping out.

  “Sachiel, he’s he-... Where’d he run off to now?” Asheera pouted.

  He was nowhere to be found.

  Where could he be at such an important time? Asheera’s next guess would be his busy humanitarian aid and rescue missions in Snowfall Heights, the most dangerous place in all of Testharia.

  Not even some high-rank Mobilizers dare to set foot on Snowfall Heights.

  “...He isn’t here?” Jumkou looked around, joining Asheera in the search.

  “Busy again, I assume. Calling someone... doing rescue missions. Since the attack, he’s basically... umm...”

  Asheera fell silent.

  “... Well—Welcome Flynnigan Shotaro! Make yourself feel at home.”

  Flynnigan stumbled around, dizzy from the elevator. He got his act together quick though, looking around once again. This was like a museum exhibition for him, going from one amazing room to another.

  How do people live in such perfect imagery?

  “Everything is so perfect about this place... I’m taken aback...” Flynnigan said.

  “Still baffles me to this day.” Jumkou added.

  “So... This is the lobby room, Sachiel. The living room is behind that huge security door. That’s where we live, but this is where foreigners or any other intergover... intra... whatever inner governmental meetings come about. This was actually a living room and a meeting room all in one. It took a lot of convincing for Sachiel to change it.”

  Flynnigan walked around, checking the fabric of the sofa, the intricate designs on everything. Gold plated curtains, gold plated walls, silver plated ceramics.

  “Am... Am I allowed to touch anything- Am I even allowed to be in this room...?”

  “Please... do whatever you like—Don’t touch that one.” She pointed to the other door that led to the looping hallway, where the Testharian Library was.

  The library was sacred and a place where nobody could go in. The library was only accessible to Asheera and Sachiel. After everything Satono did with the Testharian Records...

  It was made private.

  “Testharians are nice and welcoming people, Flynn...” Jumkou crossed her arms, smiling.

  Flynnigan nodded slowly, hesitant at first but eased himself into it. A nice, warm welcome after travelling such a long distance, that would make even the most stoic of individuals break down and cry.

  That was just the charm of Testharian hospitality. It had no limits.

  The security door that separated the lobby room and the living room opened and out came Sachiel.

  He was sulking a little bit, something that Asheera picked up on rather instantly.

  “... Did you call Altair or something?” She asked, looking at him.

  “I have not yet called him.” He said, forcing a smile. “I will, soon.”

  He turned to Jumkou and Flynnigan, the forced smile now a genuine smile, he walked over to them.

  “Welcome back, Jumkou—Welcome to you, Flynnigan Shotaro.” He stood before him, wanting to shake his hand.

  Flynnigan turned to Sachiel, freezing.

  “...”

  Funny. Sachiel was left hanging.

  “S-sorry, you are...?” He asked, brushing his hand off and shaking his hand.

  “I am Sachiel Eria, nice to meet you.” He smiled, a chuckle blowing air around Flynnigan’s hair.

  .:. A... I’m shaking hands with the Testharian leader... No honorifics or anything? .:.

  “S-so... What do I call you?” He asked.

  “Just call me Sachiel.” He grabbed the can of Testharian cola he placed on the table to greet him. He chuckled harder, turning to Jumkou.

  “A rather healthy grown-up you’ve found.”

  “Grown-up overdoes it... He’s 19 years old.”

  Asheera gasped. “Do you guys really age that quick?”

  It often goes over Jumkou’s head that Testharians are different from normal human beings. That is because the gravity on Testharia is lighter than gravity on Earth.

  This allowed Testharians to grow over 7 feet (2 meters) and weigh less than 140 lbs (63 kg) on average.

  Furthermore, Testharians are also known for their pale white skin and dark coloured eyes. They also look younger than what their age tells about them, as one full Testharian year is roughly 241 earth-days.

  This makes—for example, a 24-year-old Testharian seem 18 years old to a normal human.

  Sachiel is 31 years old but looks more 22 than early 30s.

  And funnily enough, Asheera was 3 years older than Flynnigan but looked younger than him.

  Yup, I forgot that these people aren’t human.

  “He looks older than 30 if I may be honest.” Asheera rested her chin on her knee like a little kid, whilst being sat on the sofa.

  The lobby room oversaw 30 seconds of silence before Sachiel broke it.

  “Ah, yeah. Now that Flynnigan is here, he is ensured protection. He is in safe hands.”

  “Then everything is going in the right direction.” She smiled. To herself, it felt like she was muttering but said out loud.

  “The future might be saved after all.”

  “...Eh?”

  Asheera caught note of that, heard her crystal clear but yet confused. She is the only one in the room that knew nothing about Jumkou’s mission, Flynnigan’s importance to the mission and Sachiel’s involvement in the mission.

  This was unchartered territory for her now.

  “Jumkou, you said that I was a Soul-Wielder. If I really do harbour this innate power... I want to learn how to use it.”

  “...” Jumkou looked at Sachiel and then back at him. “Are you sure about that?”

  “I’m tired of feeling helpless, Jumkou. I’ve had two moments where I could have saved those dear to me and I failed on both. I failed them because I didn’t know how to fight, how to defend myself... or how to use this power I don’t even know existed inside of me. I need to learn this power... and if I’m the key to saving your future, then I have to be more than ready for what’s coming next... and to find that person who ordered the destruction of my...”

  He fell silent, voices and visuals of his village clouding him. It was coming. It was coming to consume him.

  He started sweating, his hands started twitching, his eye started twitching. The sweat felt cold and so did his neck.

  “... My... my village...”

  .:. Grandma... Grandpa... .:.

  With a simple pat on the shoulder, Sachiel helped stop a panic attack from forming. “I suppose having another apprentice would be no issue.”

  Jumkou smiled. Of course, I could teach him too, but I have not amassed all of my power yet to be of any use to his training.

  Jumkou has to take it easy and let herself heal. Whatever the reset point was, it sent her Soul-Energy reserves back to negative.

  “No longer will you feel helpless in the face of war. No longer will people die in vain, for you will acquire power to save them.” Sachiel said.

  “Sachiel...” Asheera sighed. “I hope you won’t go too hard on him like you were when you trained me... or Asura on that matter.”

  “Hard work pays off.” He smiled. “So. Flynnigan. We shall start with the basics. Then, once your physical assessment is complete, we will then start with your Soul.”

  “My Soul...” He touched around his chest. “What is your Soul, Mr. Eria?”

  “My Soul?” He thought, before opening up his hand and spawning 6 different kinds of swords.

  While Sachiel was known for his insane and intricate martial arts, which most thought was the very essence of his Soul.

  It was not what derived from his Soul.

  That was more or less his 24 year long skill honing process which allowed him to be the best, the greatest martial artist of contemporary history... Or all time.

  No, his true Soul-Spec, his Soul-Power... was the manifestation of all the weapons that were all used by various people in Testharia throughout its history.

  He was also one of the only Weapon-Type Soul-Wielder that did not possess one Signature Weapon, but two.

  The first one being his Kamisword, a meter long cyan & yellow coloured Wakizashi with an ability that enables him to warp reality.

  The second was the Eriamerate. A composite or a mix of all the Signature Weapons that Kamiswords and ancient Testharian leaders wielded in its long history. It also retains all their gimmicks and side-abilities. It resembled a 15-meter-long great sword.

  How many weapons it is, Sachiel didn’t know himself. He once estimated that he had about a billion swords in his wide arsenal, all manifestable within his hand and around him.

  He has marched onto fronts where he killed hundred thousand manned armies with a single sword.

  The 6 miniature swords on his hand swerved like a hologram.

  “This is my Soul. The Soul of Weaponry... Nunri.”

  He lifted one finger up as he spoke, a blue aura engulfing the chosen sword on the said finger.

  “Souls are sentient. They are intricate gifts given from time. They are bound to us like we are bound to them. They are slaves and masters, like we are masters and slaves to them.”

  “The most important thing to look out for is: ‘How do I maintain a good connection to my Soul?’ The Soul will bow to anything; it will bend to your will.”

  He then extended his arm, the other five swords disintegrating and a normal sword manifesting to its original scale.

  “Can... I hold that?”

  “You may.” He handed the sword engulfed in blue aura to him. “Control is of utmost importance. To fight, means to control.”

  The sword began to shake violently as the aura shifted into grey and then white.

  “Wh-“

  He dropped the sword to the floor, the shift in colour remaining.

  Sachiel picked up the sword from the floor, realizing a fatal flaw in Flynnigan’s attempt to control. He closed his eyes and disintegrated the sword.

  “Most Soul-Wielders do not achieve their full potential all because of one reason. They are not in tune with their Soul. They are living beings, like us... They may bend to our wills, but they are also masters to us. Think of it as an... symbiosis.”

  “...”

  Flynnigan thought long and hard.

  “Hey, Sachiel. Is there a training ground in Tristate City.”

  Sachiel turned around, fixing his hair. “Indeed, there is. It is the Mobilizers Base, just 10 kilometers away from the Eria Tower. A simple Hypertrain or a Light Hyperrail Line will get you there in less than a minute.”

  “Perfect... We’ll sort out your room later, Flynnigan. Follow me.”

  “...Right.” He looked at the place where the sword disintegrated.

  .:. Mr. Eria is right. I dropped the sword because I lacked control... but I don’t think he understands... I dropped it because- .:.

  “...” Sachiel thought.

  “He exerted too much power into the sword... Is he truly oblivious to his potential... or is he completely unaware of this innate power he holds?”

  Sachiel coughed.

  “Hm...”