Later, as the sun was setting, Kinson looked out the window as they arrived at Atlas. The city was basically brand new, and was only named several years ago. Still, government incentives had driven almost ten thousand to relocate here, including Kinson's parents. The design of the city was completely different from Colony's. Every structure was built into the jagged cliffs of a towering mountain range, yet most of the buildings were exposed. Windows lined the various structures, providing a beautiful view of the stunning topography, riddled with methane lakes, whose mirror-like surface reflected the light of the sun in the day, and those of the stars at night. The streets were still underground, but the city wasn't large enough to have auto ways, or even cars, so people were stuck walking.
The ship rocked gently as it touched down in the small airport, Kinson, still on crutches, limped out ahead of his parents, but found himself waiting anyways. Small vendors graced the reception room, manned by bored-looking employees. At this time of day, the little traffic that came through here rarely spent the time or money on their products.
When they finally arrived home, Kinson felt too tired to do much more than greet his brother with a hug and retire to his old room. He smiled, finding it untouched after the year he had been away. His mother had even taken the time to dust and tidy the mess he had left. He fell asleep, and spent the first of many nights in recovery, with each new day longer than the last.
He tried to remain positive, but he just couldn't fall back into his home habits like before. Every hour spent watching videos or playing games was an hour wasted. Each day that dragged by without training made him a day weaker. For the first week, or so, he would wake up and attempt his physical routine, but soon learned he was no longer capable of even the simplest exercises. All he could do was train his soul to the point of exhaustion, but that seemed to hinder his recovery, if anything. He recalled Rachel's lecture on the relationship between the soul and physical body and decided to slack off on his meditation as well.
As he lived each day in helplessness, Kinson became invested in the war. So far, the BPI raid was the only attack to occur planet side for both the Outer Alliance and Earth. Several major battles had occurred within the asteroid belt, though, and many soldiers and ships never made it home. According to several analysts, the war had reached a sort of stalemate, with no clear end in mind. In an email from Griffon, Kinson learned that neither side had real clear objectives right now, and likely wouldn't do anything too serious until they committed to an outright invasion of the other.
A month later, school was about ready to start, finally giving Kinson a reason to pack his things. He had received countless texts from both Celeste and Trevor, but he hadn't responded. Ignoring them caused no small amount of frustration, so he eventually blocked them both. He hoped, with no small amount of anxiety, that they would understand.
A day before his return to Titan, Kinson sat on the couch, just thinking. His body had mostly recovered, although his chest still pained him if he exerted himself too hard. Psionically enhanced treatment greatly increased the rate of recovery for almost any bodily harm, for which Kinson was grateful.
As he sat, he took a moment to meditate and fell deep into thought while observing his soul. Over the past month, he had become convinced that the new power within him was familiar. For some reason, the face of Ashton appeared in his mind. Kinson lazily recalled his memories of the short time they had spent together, then suddenly sat bolt upright. A scene where he lay dying on the ground appeared before him, solidifying out of the hazy veil faded away.
"Ashton," he whispered in shock.
Though scarcely daring to believe, Kinson raised a hand, his fingers curling into a fist. A moment later, a faint green light flickered around it, before curling like smoke and drifting away before disintegrating.
Kinson nearly fell off the couch and stared at his hand for a long time. Slowly he repeated the exercise, and found the same results. He fell back heavily into the cushions, thoughts racing. His mother walked in a few minutes later but found him in the same state. She smiled and nudged him, breaking the trance.
"You all packed?"
He nodded dumbly. "Uh-huh."
Seeing his lack of response, she peered at him closely. "Is everything okay? You're not nervous about school, are you?"
Kinson shook his head, opened his mouth to say something, then decided against it. Seeing that she expected an answer, he finally said, "No, I can't wait, actually. I hope they understand, though."
"I'm sure they will. They care about you too, right?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "You're right. There's nothing to worry about."
She laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "Then no more moping around! Let's go shopping one last time."
"Ah, Mom, do we have to?" his younger brother called from the kitchen, hand stuffed in the cookie jar. Kinson gingerly stood but clutched his side in pain as a laugh burst out of him. "Stop whining and get your shoes. Besides, it's time to act your age, isn't it?"
"That's next year," he stuck his tongue out. "This year I'm still 15."
"You two…" Despite her mock despair, his mother smiled gently, happiness evident on her face.
Warm sentimentality bubbled up inside Kinson. Although the next year would be chaotic and likely dangerous, he would forever remember the kindness and love of life which he had learned from his family.
His return to Colony was everything he hoped it would be. Although initially angry, Trevor quickly forgave him, actually giving him a hug when he found out the truth. For some reason, though, Celeste never appeared at school. Trevor said she hadn't texted him in weeks, and his messages to her had been left unread.
The mystery deepened when Kinson learned the president of the BPI never returned from his vacation, leaving the board fuming. He avoided all attempts at contact, seeming to disappear entirely while on vacation.
Although plagued with worry, Kinson fell right back into his school routine. What he looked forward to even more, though, was reuniting with the team at the BPI. On his first day back, Kinson took the autoway to the building during the Extra Study period. Charlotte was at the desk, as usual, but Kinson scarcely noticed her. Instead, his attention was on the massive hole burned throughout the middle of the floor. It had been boarded up, and caution tape surrounded the whole thing. His jaw dropped when he looked in the gaps between the boards. The hole burned cleanly through the floor below, and the one below that. As far as he could tell, it went all the way to the deepest sub-basement.
"It's quite a sight," Charlotte called over, making Kinson look at her.
"What is it?" he asked
She chuckled loudly and raised her eyebrows. "You don't know? That's the hole Griffon made dragging you out.
Kinson froze and stared back at the hole. "No way!"
"Yep! Apparently, he just jumped right out, with you in his arms. The ceilings just disappeared from above him. I've seen the video, but even I don't believe it."
Still in awe, Kinson found the elevator and took it up, trying his best to ignore the cheesy elevator music that still hadn't been changed.
He burst into the office, the door flying open with a bang. Everything was just as he remembered it. Anders looked up at his dramatic entry and raised an eyebrow.
"Ah, Kinson, you've arrived. Good, we've got a lot to do today."
With that, the older man patted the seat next to him and took a thick folder of paper out of a drawer, setting it before him. Kinson blinked, then recalled the reason for his haste.
"I can do that later. Watch this!" he cried and raised a fist.
Andres looked over, a slight twitch of the lips exposing his irritation. His jaw slacked though when a transparent curl of green energy wrapped around Kinson's forearm, rising to form a line above his closed fist.
"What… is that?" he asked cautiously.
Kinson beamed brightly, then said, "I think it's a bit more important than paperwork."
Andres absently nodded, then said. "Why don't you take a seat, and tell me what happened."
Kinson sat down eagerly and explained what he remembered. Andres listened intently the entire time, writing a few notes here and there.
"So, basically, I think I inherited more than simply psionic power. This power is the same as Ashton had!" Kinson concluded excitedly.
Andres leaned back and went over his notes. "If that's the case, it would be simply remarkable. This would change everything we know about deathdreaming. But why hasn't this been discovered before? I was already taken aback by the energy inheritance, but abilities too? That's almost too absurd."
"I think it's because you can only inherit if you've walked in the deathdream. I've come up with a few conditions from my experiences for it to happen. The first is what I mentioned, that you need to walk in the deathdream. Ultimately, the inheritance happens in the soulspace after the deathdream ends, when you talk to the soul. Beyond that, you need to change the ending in a way the protagonist likes. It seems they have some way to decide if they want to talk with you or not. The soul itself lingers around, in a deathlike state, maintaining the deathdream till their energy has been expended. If no one walks in a deathdream the energy can persist for over a hundred years. But that energy is instantly dispersed once a deathdreamer walks in it. Any surplus is absorbed by the deathdreamer."
Andres listened as Kinson explained his findings. "You place us in a difficult situation."
Kinson looked up in surprise. "What? Why?"
"If this is all true, it means deathdreamers have more potential than just about anyone. But that only comes at a great cost. The danger presented by a deathdream cannot be ignored."
"But at the same time, you can watch a deathdream before walking in it. I've done it several times, and nothing new ever comes up," Kinson argued.
Andes shook his head. "There are too many factors you can't see. It perfectly replicates everyone inside it, right? Then that means there might be dangers that are never forced to reveal themselves in the original scenario, and might appear only after interference occurs. Think of the firefight that occurred in the pirate lair. Ashton said they were all just sucked out into space through the airlock, and no battle ever occurred. What if something similar happens?"
Kinson went silent, deep in thought. Finally, his eyes flashed with determination once more. "That's the risk we need to take. This is a chance for me to finally do something. Do you remember why I joined this team?"
Andres nodded. "You needed to find an Advanced Study or you would lose your enrollment in the University."
Kinson hesitated, then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess that was it. But that's no longer my goal anymore. I want to fight the nightmares. What you said was a possibility is now my goal. With the war sending so many psionic disturbances throughout the psionic dimension, it's inevitable the nightmares lock onto something. If that's Titan, I can't sit idly by and watch it get destroyed."
"That's what the military is for. You are a student, and barely more than a minor at that. You only turn 17 next week, after all."
That left Kinson speechless, but Andres wasn't finished. "It's not as simple as it seems. Although the destruction of Mars was devastating, it only happened because we were unprepared. The threat of the nightmares has been addressed though, and humanity is ready to face them. The invasion was analyzed in its entirety, and they simply wait upon our results to train their forces. That's what we need to focus on. Finding a way to allow the common man to fight those monsters. Even if you were to become that hero you're thinking of, how many could you stop by yourself? You couldn't be everywhere."
"Oh," Kinson managed to say, though his head was lowered, and spirits quenched. That was why the grizzled veteran's next words surprised him.
"That's where this conversation ended, on paper at least. Understand me?" he looked sharply at Kinson.
Kinson nodded, unsure of where this was going.
"Perfect. For legal reasons, I'm going to put everything you just reported into one of the pointless reports we make every day, although it will probably be penned in the margins. Personally, I feel humanity is far from prepared for the Nightmare threat. Humans have short memories, and the nightmares were an entire decade ago. The focus now is on the war with Earth, and securing as many resources as possible through the conflict. You've already signed countless liability forms, so if you want to risk yourself in walking in a deathdream, you are welcome to it."
Kinson blinked at the unexpected words. "Are you serious?"
Andres nodded, a small smile playing across his lips. "Yes, I am. But walking in a deathdream is like traveling to an active warzone. If word gets out I gave you permission to do this, it won't be pretty. I believe everyone else is waiting for you in the isolation room. There's a deathdream we've been given, and it's about time to do it."
Kinson stood up and stretched. He winced at the sharp pain in his ribs but tried not to show it. He turned back as Andres caught his arm.
"Take it easy for another month or two. Train with Griffon, but don't do anything excessive. You suffered wounds that would have killed a normal person three times over. Both your lungs filled with blood, and more than half your ribs were broken. It wouldn't surprise me at all if you picked up a bit of a superhuman ability along the way. Just be careful."
"I will" -Kinson gave him a thumbs up "and thanks."
Andres snorted. "Don't thank me yet. I might have allowed you to go to your death."
"That's a risk I'm willing to take."
"We'll see," Andres smiled. "Now, go. They're waiting."
When Kinson walked into the isolation chamber, he was immediately hit by a flying hug. He winced in pain and uncomfortably hugged the girl back.
"Kinson, your here!" Kael said, then hastily let go of him. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to thank you for what you did."
Kinson stepped back, wheezing. After he caught his breath, he said, "I just did what I had to. I'm glad to be back, though."
"No, really. If you weren't there…" Kael let the sentence trail off, her voice small.
"She's right," Luthier said, standing and holding out his hand. "We owe you our freedom."
Kinson took his hand, surprised at the firm grip. Luthier looked him in the eye and nodded.
"Let's get to it," he said, returning to his cot.
"What's the deal with this one?" Kinson asked, taking his place.
Kael smiled. "This one's a private request, actually. Apparently, this old lady mysteriously died, and her grandchildren want to know what happened.
"Sounds good," Kinson smiled. "I'm ready if you are. Who's leading?"
"I'll open it. You guys just follow," Kael said, returning to her cot. She closed her eyes, and Kinson opened his soul, feeling the deathdream. It opened, and he felt the gravitational effect come over his soul. It was good to be back.