Squadron Four dorms, kitchen.
"I don't know, Takeshi. I just...I don't know." Akemi began, setting aside her tea as she gulped quietly. The young woman held her hands in her lap, conserving her space at the kitchen table. She wasn't used to this kind of dining, since she had spent most of her life eating at small, traditional Japanese tables. She also removed her shoes anytime she ate, to follow custom. Takeshi, who had grown to adapt to British life, ate at a stood up table with his shoes on. They were from the same culture, yet acted differently in response to another.
"Well, what's got you so worried about him?" Takeshi asked, leaning back in his chair as he took a long swig from his tea.
"He's too...weak. It didn't take me long to pulverize him...and the whole time I didn't use a single one of my techniques. It came to a point where I had to pull my punches. When I did, he still couldn't fight back. He only grazed me once." Akemi continued.
"Give the kid some grace, Akemi. Sure he's a able bodied young man, but that doesn't mean he has the base to fight. He's probably never thrown a punch in his life. You should know how he is by now...he's a bit too nice to be fighting yet. You need to give him time and patience."
"Even then, it's not like he would learn much. He's wired mentally to pull back and act on the defensive. As for his psychokinetic pulse...it was there. But it was...odd."
"How so?"
"It was like a jittering wave...but far more quick and varied in shape than say...Maddox's pulse."
"Maddox does have a weird pulse. But he's able to use psychokinesis just fine. That shouldn't be a problem. After all, not everyone in the guild is a strong fighter. Take Toyuma from squad five for instance. The kid's smart as hell, but couldn't hurt a fly to save his life. You see now?"
Akemi crossed her arms in agreement. She couldn't deny Maxwell for his poor fighting ability. But she could deny him for his latent good attitude.
"I don't know if we can turn him into a thief. He may be too…soft."
"Again, not every squad has strong thieves. Look at Salvo. He was an extraordinary fi-"
Akemi turned away suddenly, a grim look on her face. Takeshi stopped in accordance, having hit a sore subject.
"Look, Akemi. I know it may hurt for you to talk about him…but it's been a few months now. You have to be strong enough for him. He wouldn't want you to act like this."
Akemi tried to hold back her tears. A slight croak escaped her throat.
"You're right...its just...that damn Spaz reminds me of him. It's like he's a reincarnation. They both act the same way...headstrong and stubborn." Akemi said sorrowly.
"As I've noticed. No one likes to fight as much as those two. It's alright, Akemi. You're okay." Takeshi said warmly, opening his arms as he scooted out from the table. The small girl was quick to throw herself in his embrace, trying to erase the thought of the man named Salvo.
"Who's Salvo?" Riley poked, emerging from the door of the dorm.
"Maxwell! How long have you been there!?" Takeshi shouted nervously, backing away from Akemi as the girl's expression changed from saddened to blank.
"A while. This Salvo guy sounds interesting. What's so bad about him?" Maxwell continued.
Takeshi began to infer the fact he had not heard about Akemi's comments. Subjecting to his question, Tanaka answered without hesitation.
"Nothing's bad about him. Salvo was a former member of this squad. He was widely regarded as one of the strongest members of this guild behind Oxford."
"Have I met him? I hadn't heard of him until now."
"No. I'm afraid you'll never get to meet him. Salvo died on mission three months ago."
Riley's confusion twisted into a somber perception. Almost stepping back subconsciously, Akemi turned away.
"I take it you guys really liked him. I'm sorry for your loss."
"It's fine. We've all kind of moved on except for Akemi...she's had a hard time coping with his loss."
Riley turned to the girl.
"Akemi...I know what it's like to lose someone. Hell, I think at this point I've lost just about everything. But If there's one concrete thing I've learned from losing...it's the fact that something better is to come. I lost my old life...but here I am living my new one. If some poor boy with a little hope can make it through these kinds of things...I'm sure you can too." Riley advised, giving a slightly warm smile. Akemi looked on in disgust, stomping over to her bed without a word.
"I'm afraid she's lost a little too much...probably the same as you, Riley." Takeshi explained.
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
No response.
Leaving the subject alone, the tenseness of the situation faded away as the door bursted open.
"A GOOD DAY'S TRAINING, MY BOY! YOU ARE ALREADY SHAPING UP TO BE AN EXCELLENT STRONG MAN! ONE OF THIS GUILD'S BEST!" Oxford barked, entering the room with an array of odd flexes and poses. Trailing behind him, Spaz mimicked Oxford's show with some unique poses of his own, flexing his now toned, shirtless body. The two had been slathered in oil to make the skin shine, giving the illusion of sparkles in the light.
"I'M TRYING TO SLEEP HERE!" Cutter screamed from his bunk. tossing a pillow at max speed towards Oxford's face. The muscle man simply caught the cushion mid air, squeezing it lightly as the cloth bursted into a heap of feathers.
"O-Oxford...why is your skin so bright?" Takeshi barked, covering his eyes.
"BECAUSE I CANNOT INTERNALLY CONTAIN THE STRENGTH WITHIN ME! IT HAS FLOWED OUT OF MY PHYSICAL FORM INTO MANIFESTATION!"
"Put a shirt on for Christ sake. You'll do us all a favor." Cutter grumbled, throwing himself deeper under the covers.
"We refuse! Witness our peak physical forms!" Spaz chimed in, flexing in various odd poses.
"This is usually the part where Akemi smacks both of them utop the head...hehe." Riley giggled nervously, scratching the back of his head.
The door opened again slightly, revealing a well dressed man.
"Squadron four captain Takeshi, are you present?" The servant said softly.
"Yes, I'm here. Am I needed?" Takeshi popped out from the kitchen, setting the tea kettle on the table.
"We'd like to notify you that the recruits in your presence are being summoned to Master Maddox's office. They are to be officially initiated into the guild today."
Riley and Spaz looked at each other briefly, giving each other a slight nod in agreement.
"Please, follow me. I will escort you to our destination immediately." The servant stated. Spaz threw on a shirt as Riley fastened the glove on his hand.
****************************************************************
The office of Riker Maddox, Spectre HQ
The setting was dark and warm, like it was for their initial meeting. A few gas lamps were lit about the place, maintaining a slight line between Maddox and the two boys.
Charlemagne was up against the door, watching the event unfold. The silence was broken by Maddox, who was sitting up against his desk chair, signing documents.
With an etch of a pen, the man averted his attention.
"Alright, boys. You come here today as fresh recruits to our righteous guild. You will leave this room today as it's new official members. Our small tradition involves swearing into our code, a blood pact, and a branding of your choice. Now, let us commence the process. Maxwell, step forward and place your hand on this book."
Maxwell followed orders quickly, a small quiver in his step. He was noticeably nervous. A small tremor shook through his hands and feet. Maddox swung around his desk, a large leaf green book in hand. Placing it before him, Riker held it by both ends, holding it firmly.
"Do you know what this book is, Maxwell?" Maddox asked softly.
"No sir."
"This, is your survival guide. It is your tool. Your teacher. Your best friend...your bible. This is the almighty book, 'The art of Thievery' volume one, written by yours truly. This is the book you as a recruit will live and die by. It will teach you to truly become one of us. Everyone in this guild has read and learned from it. Now it's your turn. Place your dominant hand on the book."
Maxwell, who was ambidextrous, quickly decided to go with his right—the good hand that didn't require a leather glove.
"Now, repeat after me. I, a recruit, wish to become a thief and vigilante of the highest regard. I am to learn to become strong and fight for myself and others. I am to learn to defy all odds. I am to learn what it means to steal, and have good purpose behind it. I will leave no trace. I will have no presence. I will be a ghost, an apparition, a figment of public imagination. I, from this day onward, am a Thief of the Spectre guild."
Maxwell took a long breath, recalling each word. He was about to recite the contract that would seal his fate. Suddenly his mind began to race with thoughts.
Flashes of light. His mother. Father. Sister. Brother. Grandparents. They stood before him again. They smiled warmly without a doubt in their eyes. A tear dropped from Maxwell's eyes as he turned away, looking towards the other side of this spectrum. It was black and empty, shrouded in darkness and uncertainty. Suddenly, a gas lamp manifested in his left hand. Etched across the bottom was the word 'Spectre' in bold letters. With a bit of hesitation in his step, Maxwell lurched forward, the darkness fading away as the light consumed it.
"Don't go too far, boy." A booming voice rung out. Riley jittered back, almost dropping the lamp. He tightened his grip and reclaimed his stable nature, holding firm in his position. He was surrounded by light again.
From all corners of his eyes, they appeared.
Takeshi. Oxford. Akemi. Spaz. Even Cutter. They all assembled around Maxwell with warm smiles. A strong scent filled the air, accompanied by a familiar voice.
"You're home now, Maxwell. You're home."
Reality snapped back.
Now back in the present, Maxwell's hand was pressed firmly against the book. Not a single drop of hesitation. No worry. No second thought. Only brave certainty. Clearing his voice, Maxwell spoke loudly with a proud tone.
"I, Maxwell Riley, a recruit, wish to become a thief and vigilante of the highest regard. I am to learn to become strong and fight for myself and others. I am to learn to defy all odds. I am to learn what it means to steal, and have good purpose behind it. I will leave no trace. I will have no presence. I will be a ghost, an apparition, a figment of public imagination. I, from this day onward, am a Thief of the Spectre guild."
Silence again. Maddox couldn't help but smile as he stared on at Riley, who was just as confident and proud as ever.
"That's the spirit. I've never met such an eager young soul. You're going to be just fine, Maxwell Riley." Maddox said with a bright smile.
Riker motioned Maxwell to the side as Spaz stepped up and recited the same chant. Now both complete, the last step was the blood pact. Maddox guided the boys over to the fireplace, which was promptly lit by Charlemagne only minutes before. From the Heath, Riker drew a long, shimmering blade from its box.
The dagger was of pristine condition, plated in gold and silver, the handle shaped like the body of a dragon. The blade itself was sharp to the point and as clean as a whistle. Maddox held the weapon firmly as he cleared his throat.
"Okay gentlemen, this is the last step. You are to take this dagger and cut your finger. The blood from the cut will be poured into the fire, signing your oath and declaring yourself as one of us. Take this blade now and do as I have told. Become a Spectre."
Spaz, who took the liberty of cutting himself first, reached for the blade quickly and jammed it into his thumb, dripping the red liquid onto the burning orange flames. A sizzling sound could be heard on the wood stumps that perpetuated the blaze.
Spaz promptly handed the dagger to Riley, who immediately felt a wave of curiously sweep through his mind.
After it occurred, Maxwell had wondered if the blood in his left hand had turned black as well. If it was truly just a medical condition, the blood must've retained its color for the most part. But if it was something more as Riley had begun to presume, then the color would be distinct—or at least the same as his skin. Deciding to put it to the test, Riley pulled the leather glove from his left hand, subconsciously throwing it into the fire. His glowing hand began to pulsate, Spaz backing up at the sight of it.
"Oh bloody hell...that's disgusting. What happened to your hand?" Spaz spoke up.
"Long story." Maxwell replied, slicing his index finger open quickly. Unexpectedly, droplets of dark blood dripped from his hand into the fire, turning flames from a brisk orange to a deep black. As the blood sizzled, the flame returned to its normal color.
"Amazing. That hand of yours is quite unique. I can't wait to train you how to use it. I have all the confidence in you, Maxwell." Riker said enthusiastically, turning to the boys. Spaz crossed his arms, expecting a kind compliment of his own.
"And you, Keith. I expect great things of you. I know you are a strong fighter, but you will become even stronger among our ranks. Now, you will be issued an identification card while you receive your branding."
"What is a branding, sir?" Riley asked.
"A branding is a permanent image, illustration, or symbol on your body that is burned into the skin. We developed this unique way of marking the body to easily identify our members. Because of this, your marking can be anything you want, and we can still identify you as our own. Now, do you have any idea what it'll be, gentlemen?" Charlemagne butted in, answering Riley's question.
"I know exactly what I want. I want my family's crest on my left peck." Spaz spoke up.
"Alright, come with me. And you, Mr.Riley?"
Maxwell thought about it for a moment, really considering the request.
"I'm no good at reading Japanese. I only ever learned a bit of the kanji, but if I definitely know one symbol, it's the one my mother used to write on everything for me. My lunch pails, my school work, my bedpost. I can never forget it." Riley spoke up.
Maxwell quickly asked Maddox for permission to use the stationary on his desk, of which he accepted. With a few swipes of a pen, Riley held the paper up to Charlemagne.
"幸運な"
"I'd like that on my upper back, please." Riley said, pointing at the paper.
"Ah yes, Lucky... A very meaningful kanji, I might add." Charlemagne scanned.
"You speak Japanese, old man?" Spaz said with a surprise.
"I'm not old, chap. Just a little worn, that's all. As for that, I speak multiple languages, however my strongest are Japanese and English. I just started German the other day, come to think of it. It's a hobby, I suppose." Charlemagne said with a happy tone.
With that, the man directed the two over to the next room where the process would begin.
The initiation was over, but the adventure was just beginning.