Nick woke up again. His eyes drooped open.

The high-winds billowed past cheeks he could barely feel. He had gone numb to the cold long ago.

The world was a mass of hazy clouds rushing past him in the evening sky. Condensation and grime slathered his hair and skin. Ropes were coiled around his chest, constraining his breaths, while binding him to the wooden bow. His pants were soiled. His body was emptied of all remnants of food and drink. No nourishment touched his lips since he was bound here.

This was his punishment. A slow death strapped to the bow of the ship.

And yet, even though the agony, he still clung onto life.

He could feel it in his bones. Rage. Spite. Anguish. All mixed to the point where it was impossible for him to tell when one stopped and the others began.

Here in the hands of traitors, oathbreakers, and heathens he resisted. Although they had long since left Sevola, his final view of the town, charred in rising smoke, was still fresh on his mind.

The air-engines whistled behind him, but the one on the left was quiet. A reminder of his failure. If only he was faster, stronger. Maybe if he was born with the powers of the elements or if he had the time to become a Bracer.

If only. If he did Cedric wouldn’t have died, Vlara and half the children wouldn’t still be captives, and he wouldn’t be strung up like some carcass.

That was all it was. Power and the lack of it.

“How is he still alive?” a voice above him spoke.

Nick tried to move his head, but even that was too much of an effort. This was the first time someone took note of him since he was straddled to the bow.

He didn’t intend to plead or beg. All he wanted to do was curse in their face. Just another futile act of defiance.

“No idea,” said another. “Boss had him tied up there since we left. Four days without a spit of water or a speck of food. He should have died after the second day.”

Four days? Had it already been that long?

“Well we are going to need the rope,” one of the voices said. “Think we should just let him loose?”

“Aye,” said the other. “We’re already back overland anyway. If the fall doesn’t kill him, the monsters should. They always love a good human carcass.”

Monsters?

Another spasm rippled through his skull, and the only pain he wasn’t numb to followed in a shockwave. Nick moaned in agony. The same visage. The one he saw countless times petered across his vision.

ΛᄂΣЯƬ: MΛIП ЦПIƬ PӨЩΣЯ ᄂΣVΣᄂƧ ᄃЯIƬIᄃΛᄂ

He had no idea what it was or what it meant. Was this the madness or some other ailment? The seizure took hold as Nick felt his consciousness give way to pain.

The binds suddenly slipped loose, and he fell.

His last sight was of moonlight glinting off a forest canopy. The trees rushing up to meet him.

Nick woke up again. He opened his eyes and lurched upright.

Everything was dark.

He could feel his arms and legs, without the bruises and frostbite. His skin no longer rubbed raw by the high-winds above the clouds. He tapped his hands against his cheeks, just to be sure.

Damp with sweat, but warm.

Everything that had happened. It all seemed like a distant memory.

Was it just another nightmare? Was it all just a dream?

That was what he thought, until he realized this wasn’t his bed.

The darkness here wasn’t the normal kind, like the wilderness in a new moon. Even then, one could still see shapes and shadows.

This was pitch black.

The floor was as smooth as glass, neither hot nor cold. He could still feel his clothes on him, and they felt clean. Free of grime, sweat, and his own waste.

Where was he? Was he still dreaming?

“You are alert.”

The voice rumbled through his body, causing him to jolt in surprise. It echoed, long after the speaker spoke.

“What?” Nick’s own shrill voice seemed weak compared to the other. “Where am I? Wh-Who are you?”

“We are within your mind. Your condition activated a fail-safe. Hence why we are here.”

“What? That makes no sense.” Nick looked around but he could see nothing. “This has to be just another dream… I have to be dreaming.”

“A dream is a good approximation.”

The voice was dispassionate, lacking any accent which indicated who or what it was.

However, if this was a dream, did that mean…

“The events in question still occurred.”

“How-”

“This is your mind. Your thoughts are laid bare here.”

The hope Nick latched to crumbled away. Sevola, Cedric, Cianna, and Vlara. All still gone.

“Tragic. Albeit unavoidable.”

Nick looked up, narrowing his gaze.

“I could have done more.”

“You did all that you could. Within your limits.”

“No. If I had been stronger, none of this would have happened.”

“One wonders what would have happened if you were stronger.”

Nick glowered, but sighed. The last thing he remembered was falling.

“Am I dead?”

“No. Not yet.”

The answer gave him relief, although he didn’t know whether he could trust… whatever the voice was.

“You haven’t answered my second question. Who are you?”

There was silence for a moment.

“A remnant of a time long past. One best forgotten.”

Nick felt something as it uttered those words. Like regret or longing? This was crazy. Insane. He was having a conversation with something in his own head. Maybe the madness within him had come to life.

“You are not insane, and I am not a formulation of the compulsion.”

“The what?”

“The compulsion engineered into you. Suffice to say it once held a far greater degree of influence than now. However, this line of inquiry is outside the scope of my purpose.”

White light flashed to life behind Nick, casting his shadow across a featureless space.

Nick squinted from the gleaming flare. He turned around, and saw an open door. Not a sight or sound came from it. Only blinding white light.

He stared, trying to glimpse whatever was beyond. All to no avail.

Then something crackled behind. Violet and yellow rays webbed out, emanating from the direction opposite the doorway. Nick turned.

A mask levitated several paces away. Shaped in a pale mimicry to a human face. Jagged edges for facial features. Hollow square yellow irises.

Nick’s eyes widened as he immediately recognized it. The same one from his dreams. He took a step away.

“I-I don’t understand.” Nick looked up, trying to see if the new light sources revealed the speaker.

“Choose.”

“Does this have to do with who I am?”

“Yes.”

Nick paused.

“What am I?”

“Human.”

Nick furrowed his brows in irritation.

“My purpose is not to answer your inquiries. Choose.”

There was a degree of finality in the last word which indicated it wouldn’t answer anything else besides the choices ahead.

Nick looked back and forth between his two options.

“Where does the doorway lead?”

“Whatever lies beyond life.”

“So, death?”

“Maybe. We do not know if it is as final as one imagines. We have not experienced it before.”

That choice became immediately unappealing. Nick looked at the other, to the mask floating in the abyss. The face from his nightmares.

“And the mask?”

“You return to whence you came. Whole.”

There seemed more to it than just that.

“What do you mean by whole?”

“You return without restraints.”

Restraints. Nick thought of his ability to draw aether from gemstones. His lack of need to eat or drink. The dreams, nightmares, and the looming maddening bloodlust within. The strange symbols he saw before coming here.

He always knew there was something off about him. However, it also seemed like a shadow of something more.

“Does this mean a power of some sorts?”

“Yes.”

Nick looked again at the mask. The inhuman irises of its eyes looking into his own.

He recalled the power he wielded in his dreams. It was unlike any he heard of. However, the results were clear. The ability to impose his will upon the world, to warp it into an image he desired. What would he do if he had such an ability?

Nick thought of all the things he wanted. The pledge to honor Valdric. Fame. Respect. Even smaller more petty things, like a large home to live in.

He took one step forward.

He’d use that power to bring justice upon the raiders. Save Vlara and the remaining captives from a lifetime as chattel. Avenge Cedric, Cianna, and all those who had fallen.

And after? He could bring justice to those who betrayed Valdric. Upon the guilds who led to his demise. He could end the Reclamation War. The forces he wielded against the city far exceeded any he read or seen. It would be easy enough to bring its wrath upon whatever curse the Fallen laid upon the ancient capital of the First Civilization.

The mask was in arm’s length.

And why stop there? He’d lead the crusade against injustice world-wide. Nobody would dare stop him.

His hand reached out.

Nobody and nothing would stand in his wake.

He stopped. A hairs breath from touching the mask.

“You hesitate.”

“I...”

Those thoughts, therein lay the problem.

He always believed he was good. Someone who lived up to the ideals of the Divines and the Paragons. One who sought to emulate their virtues in his own life. Courage. Temperance. Patience. Kindness.

Being the finest servant to the Earl and his family. Being the kind elder sibling to Ren and Miri. Being a good business partner to Eric. Listening and sharing in pleasant conversation with Cedric.

For a time, he thought about being a good husband to Lara. Being good to their kids.

However, he knew what lurked below the surface. How he felt beyond the veneer. Resentment. Anger. Rage. Hate. Spite. A lust for power and the need to spurn those who snubbed him.

Fundamental truths he tried hard to forget. He convinced himself he was good. However always, the shadow loomed. It was why, when he saw the destruction wrought in his nightmares, he wasn’t terrified because of what he did.

He was terrified of how he felt. Thrilled. Overjoyed. The same as when he fought the harpies and Sevola was sacked.

What would become of him if he had that power? How long until he became that being?

Was it best to let loose something like him on the world?

He looked back to the white door.

Maybe it was better this way. To make the good choice while he still could. While he still wanted to.

The door loomed across from him. Beyond it, he’d leave everything behind, and let the world carry on without him. Maybe everything would work out in the end.

He wondered what Valdric would say. What all the heroes from all the stories would act, if they were put into his shoes. Knowing how he was deep inside.

Nick steeled his resolve, and made his choice.

He turned, reaching for the mask.

“So, you still choose power.”

“Yes,” said Nick. “I know how I feel underneath. I know what I desire.”

He grabbed the mask, pulling it towards his face. There was no resistance.

“However,” he said. “I am more than just the sum of how I feel.”

“And what makes you certain about that?”

He thought of Valdric and his easygoing smile. Cedric and his tired eyes which saw many lifetimes worth of trouble. Cianna and her calm demeanor. Eric, cynical yet fair. Even the Earl, who remained dutiful to his people, if not to himself or his family.

All people. People who probably felt the same way he did. Many who had power and chose to be good through temptations.

All of them struggled to be better, and Nick was very well acquainted with struggling.

“I have a few good examples to live up to,” said Nick as he placed the mask over his face. “And there are people out there who still need me.”

The voice said nothing, but he got the impression of a satisfied smile.

“There is an old adage from our time. Power corrupts. A saying conjured by people to outsource responsibility. To blame something other than themselves when they fall from grace.”

Nick felt something slither around his mind. Slither and tie together. Lost connections reforged anew. He felt his mind warp. It expanded outwards, like a mental rope wrapped around it had been released.

“Power does not corrupt. Power reveals. And in time we shall see what you are.”

Suddenly, he felt like his mind was too big for his body. He felt the growth of hundreds of phantom limbs. Disorienting, because his body remained the same.

“A note of caution. The others chose as well.”

Others? The first thing Nick thought of were the three figures from the cliff. The ones he repeatedly saw in his dreams.

“You will know. Don’t keep them waiting too long.”

A pale screen flashed in front, scrawled with the same unintelligible symbols from earlier. However, there was no spasm this time. No headache.

And the words started to make sense.

ƧPIЯIƬ-ᄂIПK ΛᄃƬIVΛƬΣD… PЯIMΛЯY ᄃΣЯƬIFIᄃΛƬIӨПƧ IПVΛᄂID… Reverting status…

Mechanar Candidate Identified, NEZRA- 14526181….

Engaging Training Sequence… Initiating Trial One…

The next thing he knew, he was staring at a wall, an impossibly smooth and purely white wall.

He immediately noticed the mask was gone.

Nick looked down at his own two hands, and then the rest of his body. His clothes and skin were pristine, absent any of the bruises and cuts he remembered getting.

The voice from before said the mask would return him from where he came. He was pretty sure this wasn’t it.

“Hello?” said Nick.

A faint square popped up in front of him. It was made up of something like tinted blue glass, with a series of symbols at its center. The same symbols from before, except this time he could read them.

Task: Synchronize Droids (0/20)

What?

Something tugged at the edge of his consciousness. A bunch of floating invisible strings were brushing the edge of his mind.

First it was like he was filling a space bigger than his body, growing a bunch of phantom limbs he didn’t have and now this.

It started to tickle, if being mentally tickled made any sense. He flexed a phantom limb, which now felt as natural as one of his arms and legs, and grabbed one of those invisible strings.

The instant he did, he felt the twinge of a connection, like being jolted with electricity when he played with the sentient sword Valdric left behind. Except not as painful.

Nick felt the presence of something behind him. He turned and nearly jumped.

Twenty gray human-like statues faced him, standing in a formation five deep and four wide. Their skin consisted of an opaque glass-like material like obsidian. Jagged features for the torso, belly, and legs, resembling polished gemstones. Their faces however, were smooth and flat.

They stood as still as statues, and probably were. All in all, it was like a marble replica of an average human man, absent clothes and certain features like faces and a few organs between the groin.

Symbols floated above each of their heads. The same gray words above each, except the one closest to him whose words were yellow.

Droid Level 1.

A what? Then he remembered reading it from the floating tablet. He turned around for a second look.

Task: Synchronize Droids (1/20)

Nick turned back around. It appeared by grabbing one of those irritating strings, he had fulfilled the condition on the task.

Was this a test? The choices presented before certainly seemed like a test in hindsight. Maybe this was just a continuation.

He looked at the beings standing in front of him. Their joints looked too rigid to be able to move. He pondered the thought of them walking.

At that instant, the droid with the yellow name made a creaking noise as its feet took a step forward.

Nick jolted back. It kept stepping towards him, and he immediately thought of the droid to stop. It did so, mid-step.

Huh. Nick regained his bearings. He thought for it to stand straight.

The droid did, reverting to the same pose as the others.

Nick commanded it to jump.

It jumped.

So, it could move and it followed his mental orders. He wondered to what extent? He immediately wondered whether it could do a back-flip.

The droid knelt, readying itself to do just that when Nick frantically thought for it to stop. The droid did, and Nick strained himself to control the thoughts floating through his head before the droid obeyed every single one of them.

A solution came up. He thought for it obey his orders only when verbally told to do so.

The droid stood still.

“Step forward,” said Nick.

The droid took a step forth.

Nick thought for it to step forward, and the droid did not obey.

He sighed in relief.

So, this was the power? It made sense, given what he remembered. These ‘droids’ were eerily similar to those marching figures.

Nick looked around the space he was in. White featureless walls loomed in the distance, and judging by the parallel and perpendicular lines, he was in a room. A massive room nearly the size of the entire training field in Sevola.

There was not a visible exit or entrance in sight.

He turned around, bringing his attention back to the floating square with the “task” printed on its center.

Task: Synchronize Droids (1/20)

He was stuck here, and the only way forward was to complete the task handed to him. Nick breathed, relaxing and set on completing it.

The odd ticklish tendrils tugged at his mind, and he guessed each represented one of the droids in the formation. He focused his attention on grabbing them one by one. Each time the jolt coursed his mind and their gray titles turned yellow. He repeated the mental command to only follow his verbal orders. If they started following his thoughts, things would get messy really quickly.

With each droid he synchronized however, Nick felt the empty space in his mind fill up. It became more difficult to extend his phantom limbs, like when Chef Morel had him learn the art of running a kitchen.

By the time he reached ten droids, Nick was mentally bloated with the effort. He paused, looking at the humanoid figures.

Well, he might as well see what they could do.

“Shake hands,” he said.

Two droids walked among each other, pairing up and shaking each other’s hands.

Interesting. His words could have meant any number of the humanoids, but they still followed his intent. Handy, although it would mean he’d need be to very careful with his thoughts.

Vocalizing it was the easiest way for clarity.

“You two.” He pointed at the pair. “Stomp your feet.”

The two did as he ordered, creaking as they stomping their feet onto the floor. There was a sound of metal striking wood.

Nick went on having the droids perform more maneuvers. They all did as he commanded, and for certain impossible moves such as front-flips, they tried albeit with limited and humorous success. He had the impression he was commanding a group of soldiers. Controlling them like small figurines in the boardgame of Kings and Dominions.

How would they be in combat?

“You,” Nick pointed at one droid at the edge of the formation. “Punch the air.”

It jerked into a fighting stance and threw a jab forward.

The fighting stance surprised Nick. A type of brawler’s stance which Valdric taught him when he was younger.

“You.” Nick pointed to a droid on the opposite end of the formation. “Assume a sword stance.”

It assumed the basic sword stance Valdric taught Nick. One few people knew.

“Perform the Eighth Form: Boar’s tusk.”

The droid moved and… well tried to perform the move. At least the closest approximation it could.

Nick brushed his chin thoughtfully. He himself never mastered that specific form. Maybe the droids were limited to acting in the type of knowledge he could possess?

Nick strained his focus on synchronizing with the rest of the droids.

When the counter on the tablet reached twenty, the screen flashed white. The words vanished, replaced by a new set.

Familiarization Sequence concluded… Beginning First Trial….

Goal: Defend against enemy force. Failure will result in termination.

Nick barely had the time to register the meaning of the words when several gray items materialized in front of him. They clattered to the floor in a pile, sending metallic rings across the room.

Upon a closer look, the pile consisted of various weapons. Spears, swords, and maces. There were a few square shields among them as well. All of them formed out of some dull gray material.

A rumbling noise swept across the room and wall on the opposite end began to rise. Nick looked up to see rows and rows of the same humanoid figures known as droids appear. Far more numerous than the twenty in front of him.

Nick made out gray weapons bristling in their hands, and above their heads were red labels.

Droid Level 1 (Enemy)

Nick’s eyes widened at the implication. The wall was completely open now and the opposing droids started to march, their steps clattering in rhythmic unison.