"It was just a culmination of various experiences," Sikhail made up an excuse.
Dekadel nodded.
"I've been so immersed that I forgot," Dekadel muttered.
"You''re the one who was in my assessment, right?" Sikhail asked.
"Indeed. I went on a mission not longer after that.," Dekadel replied.
"Oh? What type of mission?" Sikhail asked curiously.
"One that changed me. I was sent to the same dojo you went to. I changed yet again. Now I'm back and want to see how we stack up," Dekadel revealed.
"Interesting. I don't mind," Sikhail replied.
"No special arena. Just a good old brawl, the ones that happen amongst brawlers. Spontaneous and purely based on the fighters whim," Dekadel suggested.
"Alright," Sikhail accepted.
"Sounds like a deal," Dekadel nodded before walking off.
"Not right now?" Sikhail asked, brows raised.
"They kept ambushing me in the dojo. Told me the instructors asked them too. I found out later it was a passive challenge. Nothing serious. Just a bit of Supernatural pride," Dekadel said with a shrug.
"Oh? I didn't experience anything like that," Sikhail replied with a chuckle.
"They probably didn't get the chance," Dekadel pondered.
"What did you do in the end?" Sikhail asked.
"Nothing. I just countered it and got a little rough," Dekadel answered.
"Were they upset?" Sikhail replied curiously.
"They praised me for becoming a little more mature," Dekadel laughed.
"They were testing your character then. If you let something like that get under your skin, it'll stunt your future self," Sikhail revealed.
"I didn't take it to heart. Military is worse," Dekadel nodded.
"You can say that," Sikhail nodded back.
"I mean. You Cadets have it easy. When I joined, they literally put us through hell," Dekadel reflected on the past.
"Some people broke down while training," Sikhail remarked.
"Just harder versions of High School P.E. Normal military training is life and death," Dekadal explained.
"Mind showing me?" Sikhail asked.
"No difference. You'd blow through it now. By the way, before I came here looking for you, I went back to my camp first. I heard there's a joint Military Zone training coming up. It's a chance to get live battle experience. The Limitless Truth Alliance is acting up," Dekadel chuckled before saying seriously.
"Joint training? Live battlefield? Limitless Truth Alliance? Are we teaming up with the Light Coalition?" Sikhail cocked his head.
"We ARE the Light Coalition, but it's with a training group. Basically me after I get promoted out of this Military Zone. The main brigade isn't coming, but the training group will guarantee the safety of you Cadets," Dekadel revealed.
"Let me guess, the front line is composed of degenerates who didn't cut it in the military," Sikhail added.
"It's complicated," Dekadel replied.
"I appreciate the heads up," Sikhail commented.
"No worries," Dekadel smiled.
Sikhail continued his exercises as Dekadel went off in another direction. When he was done, he left for his bunker.
He got on his bed and focused as an ornamental box appeared in his hands. He had a dream the other night. Well, more of a trance. He was trying to understand the path of a Supernatural Magician. He was aware of the Warrior and Rogue paths, but he only knew how to tap into the Magician aspect.
It was unlike what he went through as a WMR. There was no systematic simulation in his mind. It was just a blank and open world. He walked, but it was like he was running on treadmill. He remembered back to when he had practiced a little bit of *magic*, and looked up into the sky. If he couldn't move, maybe he could fly?
He tried it and it worked. He flew and flew until a temple appeared. It was very similar to the pantheons he had read about it school. Those were mythical of course. Creations of the human mind. It was an odd sensation to see it physically exist.
He tried opening the door to it, but it was quite heavy. He used all his strength, his veins bulging, but it remained closed. He scanned around for clues, when it suddenly opened on its own. He couldn't see much. He only went in after seeing some movement at the other end.
He walked until he saw an ornamental box on a pedestal. It was the first time he had seen something so exquisite. The design was rather ancient, modern, and futuristic at the same time. He looked up, and he saw her.
A black-silver blouse and skirt. She looked rather simple, unremarkable. There was an insignia on her chest but he didn't recognize it. She was still far away and didn't notice him, so he focused on the box.
As he examined it, the girl's hair went from black-silver to purple-dark-silver. Strange humanoid figures also began to rise near her. Similar in looks, but uglier.
He saw nothing of interest on the outside, so he tried to open the lid. It was closed really tight. He exerted more pressure as the girl's blouse flickered between a blouse and cardigan.
She was stopped by her own clone that pushed her back. Push and got pushed back until she fell.
His veins bulged as the lid barely creaked an inch. Inch by inch, he persisted until his veins started bleeding light. It wasn't red, blue or green, but pure colorless light.
That's when she stood up, pushed her despair to the side, and began running for him. As she examined him from head to die, she became puzzle. She was staring at the box he held in his hands.
His consciousness was pulled into another world. His right arm drooped, hanging onto the ornamental box as a sharp candy-red luster reflected off him, switching to white, back to red, occasionally becoming black.
——|——|—|—|——|——
He looked around, concerned. There were explosions everywhere. The enemy had finally invaded. After so long, tensions finally boiled and the other side launched an invasion.
Unfortunately, they were too strong, much stronger than they expected and his people were brutally crushed. He was running towards his lab. He had to save all his research.
He rushed forward hundreds of meters until an explosion caught him off guard. The blast threw him several feet away. His black cloak was ripped. The red yarn that sewed it together had been exposed. A minor injury. He got up and continued running.
The building had been rocked by shells, in ruins, but not completely. Just the main areas. He rushed in. A second round of explosions knocked him out.
——|——|—|—|——|——
When he returned to his senses, he had a hand around the girls' back.
Her eyes were quite dreamy, with a starry blush complementing her gem-like lips. When he squeezed his hands, discovered they were firmly holding her lean and tender legs.
He gently pushed her back as she leaned in for a kiss, not understanding what was going on.
She never provided an explanation. Just released an arrow at him. It felt compassionate, full of love and hope. For a split moment, he saw a loose purple thread.
He asked about the arrow that was able to bend space and time. She told him that he helped her come up with the name, *Continuum*. He complimented the name. She asked where she could find him. He felt compelled to tell her, for reasons he couldn't explain. He faded at the peak of her happiness, waking up with an exquisite ornamental box in his hands.
For several nights, he tried opening it with brute strength. His veins bulged several times but nothing. He even tried to try a few techniques after a set of meditative methods. It felt like someone had glued it down.
He focused again as it disappeared. He remembered the joint exercise. He had many questions. Where was it taking place? Why were the Cadets included? Who were they fighting? How would it be organized. Was it team, solo?
It was an open clash against the Limitless Truth Alliance. There would probably be extraordinary soldiers among the mercenaries. Maybe even some skilled WMRs. These were all vital to him. Even a day would be more beneficial than weeks of shadow sparring. This was based largely on his prior experiences.
Was the war as simple as right and wrong? Never was. Never would be. There were always complicated, intricate, personal intentions. His life would be on the line to fulfill other interests. He had to protect himself.
What was the best way to achieve that results? Being alert and attentive. He looked around the room, observing everything and explaining cause and effect. He arrived at different conclusions, theories, and went through countless simulations before testing it out. This luxury wasn't available on the battlefield, not without an accompany set of risks. He couldn't take those risks freely, at least not while his teammates lives depended on him.
He chose to be reckless on base instead.
Over the next several days and weeks, he became GodFiend, the Mad Scientist.
At first they dismissed him. As he fine-tuned his process and produced more accurate results, they became fascinated. Eventually, they started believing the things he was spouting. He ended up being right a lot of times. He was wrong too, but they were wrong so many times that they had some respect. They wanted to be right more often.
It was better to follow someone who was right most of the time, than jumping into death.
——|——|—|—|——|——
[Major Hsuzel's Private Office]
'That brat is acting like a scientist. That's not too bad. He's always training and always winning spars, so there's nothing to complain about. We need more commanders, more leaders, those that pave the world forward and instill confidence in places where it's needed. When he finally steps into the academy and later the real world, that extra ally is crucial. I'm looking forward to his performance in the upcoming joint military exercise,' Hsuzel thought.