Day five of living in West Junction. His mornings started at the crack of dawn, when one of his supervisors came to check on him. He had always risen early when homeless, more out of necessity to protect himself and his belongings, but these guys took it to a whole new level. If it wasn’t shouting in his ear, it was throwing water or banging on a frying pan.

This time he came prepared. He lunged out of his bed with the force of a speeding train. His fist shot forth like a bullet fired from an assault rifle. Lucy caught his arm, tossed him over and pinned him on the ground.

“Good morning, Adam.” She said, the weight of her body pressing against his lower back. She sounded half-amused, half-confused. “You’re up early?”

“Lucy?” Adam gasped. “You’re doing this, as well?”

“Of course.” She said, “I’m one of your supervisors, as junior as I am.”

Great. Now even the most reasonable person in West Junction was against him. Had the town not been surrounded by goddamn explosives, he would’ve ditched it long ago.

…okay, that might’ve just been his tiredness from the past few talking. They were treating him like he was a military trainee! What was he supposed to do?

“Adam, you shouldn’t try to assault us.” Lucy scolded him, “At least, not outside the training field.”

“It was just a friendly spar.” He grunted back.

The look Lucy gave him shut him up immediately. “Really.” She huffed, “Imagine if it had been Saria in my place today.”

“Oh god.” He whispered, “You’re right. I am never doing this again.”

“That’s the spirit.” Lucy said. She pulled herself off him. “Come on, let’s go for our run!”

His day began with raw physical exercise. He ran laps around the village until they decided it was enough, then they made him fast-walk. Repeat the cycle until breakfast time. Apparently, his control over his soul energy required to increase his overall stamina. Brigid had admitted he was decently fit for his age, given his background and lack of proper diet, but was nonetheless far from the expected levels.

“The more you use the red, the more you’ll want to burn it up.” Saria said, “It’s like a fire inside of you.”

“You’re saying I’ll want this?” Adam exclaimed, his sweaty body propped up against the wall.

“Sorta. You’ll want to get into fights more often.”

The first day, he tried to sprint and burned out. He knew better now. His legs and thighs hurt, but what other choice did he have.

“Come on Adam, keep up!” Saria yelled from in front of him.

He hoped he was going to see the fruits of his labor soon.

Breakfast was next. The canteen was loud and noisy. The residents filed in, lined up to the chefs and took away their trays of food. It wasn’t mandatory—you could purchase and eat alone—but the canteen was available to anyone who helped out with the town and besides, people liked to eat there.

Not Adam, though. The hive of activity set him on edge. He never was one for crowds. Always too many variables, targets to watch out for, and their constant chatter hurt him in the way stupidity did. He would’ve taken his tray and eaten alone, if not for his supervisors constantly watching him. Sometimes it was by his side, other times it was from afar.

Man, was this how snitches felt?

At least the food wasn’t bad. Meat, potatoes, fresh vegetables and water. A little bland, but his hungry stomach couldn’t care less. Sometimes sweets made out of fruit were passed around.

“Hey Adam, you’re familiar with Steeldale, yeah?”

“What’s this about?” He asked, putting down his spoon in his tray.

“So you know the best places to get non-perishable stuff, yeah?”

“What, like salt and crap?”

“Canned foods, preserved foods like instant noodles, even jars of honey…” Saria almost started salivating at the last one. “We once got honey on toast for breakfast a month ago. It was amazing.”

“You guys ransacked all the stores, yeah?”

“The ones we found, yeah.” Saria said. “Other factions did the same. But maybe there are other places, so do you know?”

“I dunno, try looking into people’s homes.” Adam said. “Some people were pretty paranoid. They stocked up on canned food and bottles of water in case the apocalypse happened…which it sorta did.”

“If you know of any place that might contain fresh supplies, please don’t hesitate to tell us.” Lucy said.

“There’s that motel I left.”

“A few of the scavenger team went to scour through it.” Lucy said. “They brought back lots of fresh sheets and soap.”

“Too bad it’s deep within monster territory.”

Put the trays in the wash. Don’t forget to detox. Avoid the glowing pile of red behind the counter. Exit and return to work.

Mary had dreamt up of all sorts of careers when Adam was young. They were the generic ones: firefighter, police officer, wrestler and all the others that young boys looked up to when they hadn’t been beaten down by the reality of the world yet.

His job in West Junction was rather boring in comparison. He was a farmer. He worked the soil, planted saplings, dug up weeds and was generally up to his neck in flecks of dirt and sweat. Funny thing was, he realised after a while, he was actually fine with this. It was calming, as strange as that sounded. No watching out for enemies, no looking over his shoulder at his street corners, no running away from monsters and so on. The older guys taught him the ropes and put him to work doing simple tasks.

It was hard, but it was good. And the fact that he was helping out the community…well, he tried to force the emotions down. Didn’t know what to think of it.

“Ever done work like this, boy?” The head farmer, John, asked him, as Adam tossed a hunk of weeds into the bin.

“Not gardening, but I did stuff to get rest at places.” Adam said. Sweeping, washing dishes, scaring off nearby punks. That paid for a somewhat undisturbed night of sleep, maybe even a small meal in the morning.

“Well, keep it up.” John said, “You’re going to be here for a while.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Saria wasn’t lying when she said the red made crops better. He was certain the tomatoes growing here were at least twice as bigger as the ones in the supermarket back home. All sorts of plants were in the greenhouse too. Must’ve been whatever the scavengers could dig up. He wouldn’t be surprised if they kidnapped plants from local places too.

This was life, post-breakfast to a few hours after lunch. Then, his supervisors came back and took him to the training field.

“Your form needs work.” Brigid had said after he sparred with Lucy for the first time. This, Adam learned, met that he was shit. So shit that two girls could beat him up.

“Oi, you’re not saying we’re not meant to be this strong.” Saria had said, in a menacing voice.

“What Adam means to say is that, given his magicless original world, he’s not accustomed to strong girls.” Lucy said, “It’s not an unreasonable statement.”

“Yeah, that.” Adam said.

“That being said, Adam, if Saria was actually accurate.” She stopped smiling. “We will have to teach you a lesson.”

“How much did you practice every day?”

“Every chance I got.” He said. He then demonstrated.

He crouched down, raising his fists up. He threw a punch into empty air, keeping his movements straight and solid. He followed it with another. Then another.

He repeated this routine hundreds of times. He switched to kicks, performing those hundreds of times as well. He bounced on his feet and shuffled around the room, keeping track of the distance between each dash. The world melted away until it was just him, his concentration and the faint swishes of his body moving through the air.

This was his daily routine, the groundwork towards surviving on the streets. You couldn’t get complacent as a delinquent. There always were opponents waiting for him. There always was a technique he didn’t understand at first. Adam's solution was to watch, learn, and then practice, practice, practice.

The girls watched. They took notes. They ripped apart his form like he was fresh meat to a pack of starving wolves. No, he wasn’t punching properly. Too much additional motion in his twists. That wasn’t how he was supposed to escape a grab. Why hadn’t he added motion-cancelling throws into his repertoire?

“Still, you’re not bad for a self-taught.” Saria remarked. That was as much praise as he was going to get out of her.

They beat him into submission on the grassy fields inside the village. Knocked him aside with padded gloves. Redirected his movements against him, sending him toppling to the ground. Slammed palms into the weak spots. They were lighter than him, yet they knocked him down like he was a stack of play bricks. The worst part is when he tried to use all the illegal moves on them, such as that one eye poke banned in karate tournaments, and they still grabbed his wrist before his finger could make an impact.

“Impressive.” Lucy said. “But, don’t do that again in spars. We’re not here to cause permanent damage.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” He wheezed.

“You’re getting better.” Lucy said. “Notice how you’ve been lasting longer in our spars?”

Their technique was fast, fluent and merciless. It didn’t matter that a lot of it was designed to incapacitate rather than outright destroy. Strike first, disable them and ask questions later. Adam once again reaffirmed his notion that the two would have tore through Steeldale’s youth.

Such was the devotion of Astraea to the Goddess, that Lucy and Saria didn’t care that they began learning at the beginning of the teenager years.

His days at West Junction flowed in each other. Wake up, train, work, train and repeat. In his off time, he spent it talking to the others or reading whatever the others brought in. It kept him busy. Kept him thinking about escaping. He realised this around the second week.

Well, it wasn’t like their fears were unfounded. They didn’t know him. Had they asked, he would’ve said he didn’t have a reason to escape in the near future. Maybe in the near future. Lots of maybes.

He sat by the river, holding Mary’s pendant. The thing was an enigma. It had never fit in back on Earth and only activated when he got beneath this cherry-red sky.

“It’s a special item to you, isn’t it?” Lucy said. “Your soul must resonate with it. Thus, it is a vessel for your use of soul energy.”

That was an explanation enough. Still, Adam couldn’t shake off the thought there was more to it. He found himself staring into on occasion, trying to see those images again. It didn’t work.

Guess I need to be in a near-death state for them to happen.

At one point, he had purposely let himself relax, letting Saria’s fist sail towards his neck.

It punched through the bone, shattering it and sending blood gushing everywhere. A look of surprise on the blonde girl, as if she had just dropped a priceless teacup.

The vision was vivid enough to be real. Just like in the motel. Just like when racing away from the horde. He tried it without the pendant. It didn’t work.

So, that was his Talent, then. Future sight, but only when his sister’s pendant was around his neck. All things considered, it was pretty handy. Not as flashy as creating bombs, though.

Mary…what would you say, if you could see me?

He hadn’t told the others about this. Probably would need to soon. For now, it was his secret. It felt as if he was still connected to her, in a sense.

A month passed. He learned how to control the red inside of him. First by projecting an aura, then moving onto controlling the form of the red, then enhancing his moves with it. Saria disappeared with Brigid at odd times, leaving Lucy to do the majority of the training with him. She was patient and forgiving in ways his old teachers hadn’t been.

He supposed she was his favorite person. Not quite a friend, but nice to talk to. Mary would’ve liked her.

One day, he went out for morning training, only to find Brigid there again.

“How are you doing, Adam?” She asked.

He hadn’t seen her in a month.

“You are ready now.” She said. “It is time we tested out your Pactbearer abilities.”