Kinson continued to persevere in his training, enduring agony and exhaustion alike. Griffon continued to oversee his physical training, but occasionally called others, like Winston, to make a guest appearance. And as promised, Rachel joined them a couple of times a week to help him train his soul. Fortunately, none of the follow-up events were near as intense as the first time. As they both practiced with it more, it seemed to get more and more effective with less cost. Rachel claimed this as evidence you could, in fact, teach an old dog new tricks.
As more days passed, his physical abilities increased. Although he could in no way compete with a superhuman such as Griffon, Kinson felt fairly confident in facing down a human with regular strength and abilities. This progress, however, only made Kinson push himself harder. He secretly hoped he might awaken as a superhuman himself, should he work hard enough.
The matter of his soul, on the other hand, was not so simple. Both he and Rachel noticed a decline in their rate of improvement. One day, after a particularly disappointing practice session, he confronted her about it.
She had just released his soul when he asked: "Why do you think I've slowed down?"
Rachel thought slowly, immediately understanding the topic. After a few seconds, she spoke.
"I think it might be because we've gone about as far as your soul can go," she speculated.
"What? But you said you went all the way up from class 3!" Kinson said, forcing desperation out of his tone.
"We should have foreseen this when I compared it to exercising muscles." Rachel lamented. "But every human has a max. Sure, you can keep improving, but after a point, the difference is almost marginal."
"But will I reach class 4?" Kinson asked hopefully.
Rachel placed a hand on his shoulder, and Kinson's heart fell. I'm sorry, but not at this rate. You'll be forever nearing it, but always a hair away,"
"What? That's not fai…" He clamped his jaw shut, biting the words off before they could be spoken. His fist trembled, but he forcibly unclenched it.
Rachel watched him with a raised eyebrow as he took several deep breaths. "It's not…what?" she asked.
"Fair. I was going to say fair. But I don't believe that. Not anymore," Kinson said firmly. "What would be unfair was if I could get stronger. How many psionics are trapped in their state, unable to grow no matter the amount of blood and tears they shed? Things can't be that easy."
"Oh?" she stepped back and took another look at him. "And is what we were doing easy?"
"No, that's not what I meant." Kinson waved his hands in front of him.
"Then what do you accuse me of? You just reminded us that I've grown two whole classes through this method."
Kinson fell silent. "I… I don't know. I just don't want to be caught up in self-pity, so I was trying to justify it some other way," he admitted, defeated.
Rachel's face softened. "That's good. But don't expect to know all the answers. You don't have to, actually. I'm ancient, yet even I don't know some things."
He nodded in understanding. "Okay, I get it."
"I hope so. There's so much in the world of psionics that we don't know. Don't pretend to understand it, or all the rules we are bound by. Perhaps you are just unlucky, too. That's always a possibility."
"Then what do we do? How can I get to class four?" Kinson looked up at her.
He knew he sounded desperate, but couldn't bring himself to care. Inwardly, Kinson hoped she had the magic solution, but, unfortunately, reality had a way of crushing those hopes.
Rachel shook her shoulders. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what else we can do. Whether we persevere with this, or you decide to look for something else, is up to you. I, along with the rest of us at the BPI, will do our best to support you whatever your choice. But Kinson, all paths have an end. Perhaps this one is yours."
He didn't want to believe it, couldn't, even. "Rachel, you have to know a way. We haven't come this far to only come this far! How could this just be the end?"
"Kinson, I've done what I can. However, this might be a chance for you to prove your determination."
"What do you mean?" confusion welled up inside him, spilling out in his expression.
"You don't know?" Rachel shook her head in mock scorn, "You claim to want to take responsibility for your life. That means accepting things the way they are."
That shook Kinson. Hard. But, no matter how he thought about it, he couldn't arrive at a satisfying conclusion. He left the BPI that night feeling distressed, a feeling which persisted until he managed to talk with Celeste. After giving her the long version, she was silent for a second.
"Is that it?" she asked, her tone hiding some form of mirth.
"I.. think so?" Kinson grimaced at her ensuing giggle. He could almost see her smiling widely on the other side. "What is it?"
"Well, if you can't reach class five without a deathdream, then why don't you just go in a deathdream? She asked after her laughter had subsided.
Kinson scowled in frustration. "Because I can't go in a deathdream, remember? Andres banned me until I get Luthier's approval, but that won't happen until I reach class 4," he explained sourly.
"No, you can't deathdream at the BPI. However, why would they stop you from doing it elsewhere?" Celeste asked rhetorically.
Kinson's mouth fell open. "You're kidding," he muttered.
"Nope!" Celeste laughed, "No idea how you missed that one."
"Well, Rachel didn't think of it either," he said defensively.
"What was that you mentioned the other day? Something about 'no excuses and take responsibility?'" Celeste's snide tone seemed particularly annoying for some reason.
"Fine, whatever," Kinson shook his head. All that mattered was that he knew it now, anyway.
"My Father's calling, so I'll be going first," Celeste said abruptly. "Good luck!" she whispered into the line before hanging up.
"Okay, tha…" Kinson's gratitude trailed off as the line went dead.
As he lay back in bed, he wondered how her vacation was going. She hadn't been real excited, but a couple month long voyage around the solar system couldn't be boring, right? Kinson had only been to space once, and that was in less than savory circumstances. At that time, he had the weight of death on his young, immature shoulders.
On the other side of the solar system, Celeste deleted her call history with practiced hands. Her Father called for her again, his tone much more irritant this time. Although their luxury space chip was small, they each had their separate room. It was finally time for dinner.
"Coming!" she called back, glad he couldn't see her grimace.
They were docked at a space station right outside of Mercury, the only real satellite the planet had. It was supposed to be a research station focused on the sun, but it had become a popular travel stop for those looking to take advantage of the sun's gravitational field to slingshot around the solar system.
As their small family gathered around the dining table, her Father cleared his throat. Celeste rolled her eyes, but sat tentatively. Obviously, he was using his formal business tone acquired from countless hours at the BPI. He always spoke that way, even to the family.
"I want to tell you something important," he began, his heavy tone belaying the importance of his words. "Soon, there will be some… changes… in the Alliance. Although I won't go into detail, there will be a lot of death and destruction. Yes, even a war," he said, gazing at the shocked faces around him.
"What? But why?" Celeste's mother broke out, surprising Celeste. She never spoke out against her husband.
"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to explain. However, we shall be safe out here, away from the colonies. We will be able to return after things have concluded, after Earth has reestablished dominance.
Celeste bit her lip to stop the protest on her lips. Still, her father noticed.
"What is it, Celeste?" His question seemed honest, but his eyes dared her to defy him.
"But… What about everyone on Titan? What will happen to them?" she asked, not daring to look up at him.
"Are you worried about those two friends you have?" he asked derisively. "No one there is worthy of your concern. Still, I hope the war won't touch the students much. Many of them have bright minds useful to the human race."
"But…" Anger flashed in her eyes, and she looked up into his cold eyes,
"I've been very proud of you, daughter," she shivered as she stared into eyes. "From your grades to your progress with your ability, you've truly done our name proud. Countless generations of powerful, world-shaking psionics lie in your blood. One day, you will stand among them. But for now, I need you to listen and obey. It is not the time to fight this war. Earth has planned this for countless decades. The outer ring planets have sprinted towards it with equal zeal. To get in the way is to be crushed."
Celeste lowered her eyes and nodded. Still, confusion bloomed in her heart. Why did her father sound so sad? Wasn't he for the war?
"That's all I have to share, for now. Please, refrain from contacting anyone," He glanced between them all. "Let's not speak of this further. It is too heavy for a meal together. Chefs!"
He clapped his hands, and several servants appeared, catering to their every need. Although the meal was delicious, Celeste hardly tasted a thing. Worry bled through her very soul. Worry for Titan, for her friends, and even for herself. What would happen to them all? What would this war mean? Their ship left before they even finished her meal, preventing her from even sending what might have been the most important text of her life.