Chapter 61
Lost Humanity
Ethan had wondered why nobody came out of the barracks when the sound of the gunshot rang out, but as soon as he entered he discovered that the singular room they were all shoved into was soundproofed. Whether by design or pure coincidence, he didn't necessarily care as it played out to his benefit, in the end. It was a strange sight, watching nearly a hundred souls crawl out of a single room, somewhat large though it was, like clowns out of a clown car. They all seemed to recognise Sarah, saluting on their way to line up.
It was a rather diverse group of kids–their ages ranged from 18 to late twenties in a few exceptional cases. All seemed fit, well-groomed, and well-behaved, though the curiosity in their eyes burned rather hot when glancing over at Ethan and Ronald.
Everyone sprawled out into the central 'hall' of sorts that was cleaned up earlier in the day, boosting a vast, empty space to practise on. While Ronald appeared slightly intimidated at the sight of being stared down by nearly a hundred people dressed eerily similarly to the point that if it wasn't military clothing, they'd be called part of a cult, Ethan didn't flinch, his eyes like a hawk's staring the kids down as well.
He wasn't looking to intimidate them, however, but was simply observing whether there were any surface-level signals for potential candidates. He did spot quite a few in the course of just the kids lining up, though how well they would measure up remained to be seen.
"As you know," Sarah's voice was commanding and booming–it was strange, to Ethan at least. He 'remembered' her entirely differently, and the image he'd concocted of her in his head was awfully off. She was a bit older than him, at least biologically speaking, sporting light, brown hair and a pair of rather subdued, blue eyes. Not necessarily beautiful off-the-cusp, but inching toward it. Ethan didn't care for it, however; her appearance meant squat, and he was more interested in confirming whether she truly was a scapegoat or not. "You will be tested now. Whoever passes will join us for the Mission–one we depart on as soon as the testing is over."
"..." There were a few surprised gasps as the original plan was that they'd depart sometime later in the evening.
"For those of you who can't make it, simply leave." Nobody left, however. The inconvenience of having to leave a few hours before the scheduled time wasn't much of an inconvenience, after all. "Any questions?"
"Are they testing us, Mam'?" one of the men asked. Ethan glanced over and saw a rather tall, stalwart boy posturing. Ah, right. 'Don't get offended', Ethan bemusedly recalled Michael's plea.
"Is there an issue?" Sarah asked.
"We don't have time for this horseshit," Ethan interrupted, stepping forward. "I promised to find a flock of useful birds among you in two hours. I can't do that with you all wanting to show off. So, we're gonna speed things up a bit. Everyone below Level 5, attack my friend over here. If you can make him wince in pain, you're in.
"Those above Level 5 will come at me. If you can so much as cause a nick in my clothes, you're in. Treat me as an enemy combatant. The yupper who just asked–what's your Level?"
"... Four." The boy responded.
"Good," Ethan glanced at Ronald who looked at him with a surrendered gaze, as though asking 'Fine, rile up the ones fighting you; why do the same for mine?!'. Ethan merely smirked in response as Ronald walked up. "Alright, since all of you need some convincing, this will be a perfect demonstration. Attack him. He's never allowed to attack–only to defend."
"..." Ronald was frustrated because Ethan was egging them on purpose, but relented in the end. It was better–they'd be motivated even more to prove themselves, but more to the point it would also showcase those who were motivated within reason and those who simply surrendered to the most basic taunting imaginable.
The young boy who spoke stepped out confidently and approached Ronald who simply remained standing in place, hands in his pockets, playing into the whole charade. The boy rushed toward Ronald immediately, trying to tackle him down as he stood a full head taller and probably at least fifty pounds heavier.
It was futile, however; as soon as he was within striking range, Ronald just… kicked out. It was a normal kick, a beyond ordinary one, but one supplemented with not just experience but far more refined control of Mana. The speed and precision of the kick caused his leg to appear blurry, invisible not just to the boy attacking but to nearly everyone else in the crowd.
The kick landed squarely into the boy's side, blowing him back a good ten feet as he yelped in pain. It radiated through him, as though someone had stabbed him in the gut. Upon landing, he realised he couldn't even breathe for a moment, let alone move. He didn't see the kick–didn't see when the guy that seemed even younger than him moved his leg, how he moved it that quickly, or even when the leg impacted him.
"Fascinating," Ethan's voice drew the shell-shocked young from the brink of confusion and back to him. "That's it for one on one. Again, we really have no time. So, those Level 5 and below, attack him. Whether it's five of you, ten of you, or all of you, it doesn't matter. The same goes for everyone above Level 5. Attack me, one or all." At first, nobody moved. But as soon as the first did, the dam opened.
Ethan took note of him–it was one of the youngest boys of the bunch, probably closer to 17 than 19. He was just shy of six feet tall, lean and speedy, eyes glazed in a certain level of desperation that Ethan found familiar. The boy seemed to be around Level 7 as he rushed forward, conjuring a flicker of fire from between his splayed fingers and slamming it toward Ethan. It was a widespread attack, eliciting a mumble of appreciation from Ethan who side-stepped it so swiftly that by the time everyone recognised what had happened, he was holding the boy by the back of his shirt.
"Smart," Ethan said, lifting the boy up until the latter's head was directly in front of his. The young boy appeared beyond confused, uncertain as to what even happened. "Good idea, solid execution. Alright, you pass. Go hang out with Sarah." He tossed the boy over to the woman who'd already regretted being part of the whole ordeal.
The dam was opened–and the flooding came. However, it failed to flood much; Ronald was quickly besieged by 3-4 kids all at once, but they didn't really stand much of a chance. In fact, this was more of a demonstration to Ronald to showcase to him just how strong he was compared to an average Awakened.
As for those attacking Ethan, he barely paid attention to any. Every once in a while, he'd pause, 'capture' one of his attackers, say something to them, and toss them over to Sarah who had a growing pile of confused kids desperate to ask her for an explanation by her side… but even if they did, she couldn't give them one. Even she failed to see how the two men in question were so easily handling an effective horde of the Awakened. Finally, it made sense. The General's comment about how the world 'didn't know of you'. It was clear that, in a battle, one of Ethan was worth far more than the entire bundle of kids in front of them.
Ethan shuffled to the side and suddenly retreated. A breath later, a bolt of lightning struck from above at the place where he stood, prompting a young woman attacking him to sigh in defeat. One moment she stood seeming ready to devour him, the next she plopped over like a fish pulled out of the ocean.
"... ran out of Mana?" Ethan asked as he crouched next to her even as two other kids were attacking him.
"Yup."
"Pretty stupid thing to do."
"I know… I'm sorry… I know I'm stupid… stupid, stupid!" The girl seemed just about ready to cry as Ethan heaved her up while dodging the strikes of two other kids, tossing empty bottles of water at them and incapacitating them both.
"Eh, I can hang with stupid. You pass."
One of the older boys, one seeming to be just a few months shy of turning thirty, also surprised Ethan. He had an ordinary Class–a variation of a Cryomancer–but his approach to the fight was far more methodical and calculated than the rest. It was all pointless, of course, but impressive enough that Ethan also tossed him over to the pile.
By the end, they had twenty-eight candidates–twenty-four of which Ethan had tossed over while Ronald tossed just four. Not because they managed to make him wince or even land a hit, but because they impressed him the most… and he saw Ethan doing it… and it looked like fun.
It all took about an hour, and much to Sarah's shock, both men didn't even look like they broke a sweat. Luckily, contrary to his brutality to the men outside, Ethan was relatively gentle with the kids. There were no broken bones, no gushing wounds, just a lot of bruised and confused egos.
"Alright, you guys are the winners," Ethan proclaimed to the bunched-up group of kids–twenty-three men and five women. "And by winners, I mean that you are the least losery of losers. None of you chumps are winners. I mean, seriously–you couldn't even make him wince?" Ethan looked at Ronald who suddenly felt a cold shudder cradle his soul. "Watch this."
"Don't–GODDAMMIT!!!" Ronald barked out as he felt a particularly painful sensation radiate out from his ankle. Ethan had snapped it rather violently, though the sight of his foot dangling so freely was far worse than the pain of it. "Really? Did you really have to do it?!"
"Had to bring you down a peg."
"I wasn't up a peg! At all! I was right where I always was!"
"Oh, quit your whining. It's gonna heal in ten minutes."
"My foot, maybe," Ronald sighed. "But this sight? It ain't healing for a while."
"Should I have snapped your entire leg?" Ethan proposed. "You do have some experience with that."
"... I'm fine," Ronald said, hobbling over to the side and leaning into the wall as he simply put his foot where it should be and held it together. It all seemed so… surreal, the kids all collectively thought. Like a comedy sketch meant to distract them from their own failures. Except for the fact that the man did snap the boy's ankle… for real. And the boy just took it, barely reacting to it, as though it was the most normal thing in the world.
"It is the most normal thing," Ethan's voice brought them back. "I do need you to collectively get this through your skulls: a good number of you will die, or at the very least get your arms and legs and dicks chopped off. I was gonna do that to all of you," Ethan admitted. "But I was asked to be nice… and also told that doing that isn't exactly a heaven-sent method either. So, with all the preamble dealt with… shall we?" he turned to Sarah who silently wondered upon the duality of man.
There was a cold, apathetic monster she'd seen outside, one who didn't hesitate to behead the second most important person in the city. Who killed over ten men with such ease that it looked like he was killing flies. And then there was the man in front of her–rough-around-the-edges sort that had the unorthodox kind of charisma that crept into the people's psyche. It was already evident, as nearly all kids were in awe of him, especially the younger ones.
"... let's go," Sarah said.
Ethan's theatrics weren't for nothing–they were specifically for Sarah. All the while, through beating the kids, humiliating them, breaking Ronald's ankle, and the hollow speech at the end, his eyes never truly wandered off of her. He was waiting for any kind of inconsistency–something that stood out, that didn't seem right.
But… there was nothing. All her mannerisms were consistent. All her unconscious ticks were there. All her behaviour patterns were in line with the premise. She was just… a person, at the end of the day.
Nobody–nobody–was that good at controlling their ticks. No matter the training, no matter the self-control, humans were primates whose instincts weren't glittered by reason. There can never be absolute control of self as it's a paradox of sorts; control of self requires departure of self, which was incongruous with self itself.
Even thinking it in his head caused a headache, and he momentarily mused how many people would look at him like he was a lunatic if he said it out loud. Most, he garnered, for if he had a mirror to look himself in, he'd have done the same.
Though the verdict on Sarah wasn't finalised, more and more it seemed that the world in the past… got it wrong. It wouldn't have been the first time and neither would it be the last. In the end, all the people needed was someone to point the finger at–someone lesser than them, someone who failed short of some abstract expectations of what it meant to be human. Ethan wasn't much better–he lived a whole life carrying anger towards her, anger that leapt spacetime dimensions and came home with him. Anger that he justified by marking her as the bullet that killed the human in him. But he simply needed an excuse. In the end, he was more than willing to trade in that human in him for the benefit of survival. For personal gain.
It was heavy, reconfiguring oneself on a walk to the aerodrome, escorted by a gaff of kids who all looked like the questions were spilling out from them like an overfilled glass. Romantically, or simply serendipitously, it began to rain. It was a classic Autumn rain–cold, wet, and endorsed with fumes of smoke and ash. Being human was difficult, always… but never more so when the human in oneself can be traded in for a chance at something eternal. It was all in his head, in the end. No ear in the world would be privy to the musings of a man desperate to retrieve something he'd willingly given up a long, long time ago. Perhaps simply recognising that he'd given it up willingly in the first place was a good first step, even if he'd always known it to be true. Admittance, after all, was the first step of the journey. Whether the road he embarked upon would lead him to healing… he didn't know. In the end, he could only hope it would.